Chance Encounters
by TheOtherMaddHatter
Summary: How exactly did Jonathan meet the Clown Prince of Crime? Through a sequence of chance encounters, Jonathan Crane will learn what it truely means to know fear. -This is a slash story between Joker/Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow. -Rating has changed!-
1. It's Raining, It's Pouring

**Wow, this is the first slash piece I've ever written and I realize that I don't know squat about relationships between anyone, let alone two psychopaths. I really have to get out of the house more... XD Anywho, anyone who didn't know that this fic is slash please stop reading now. I don't want to offend anyone, but I did need to get this off my chest. I do like Joker/Crane/Scarecrow pairings, so sue me. If you're going to comment or flame, please leave me some way to respond to you. I apperciate your opinion, and I'd like to respond accordingly. (I do not take offense for the most part) **

**The Joker, Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, Batman, and all other elements of this story belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers Studios. I own nothing!**

* * *

The first time Jonathan Crane laid eyes on him was when they brought him into Arkham Asylum at two thirty in the morning. Between the newscasts and the newspapers he'd swiped from the orderlies, Jonathan had known who he was when they'd brought him in. Even through the daze of heavy drugs that had been coursing through the Joker's system, he still retained his homicidal grin and shrill giggling. He even went as far as to wink in Jonathan's direction.

Jonathan didn't know when he'd see him again, if he ever saw him again.

People like himself and the Joker weren't allowed to put in cells near one another, security reasons and what not. Come to think of it, Jonathan vaguely remembered putting those rules into effect himself. Although he couldn't be absolutely sure anymore, ever since he'd taken a face full of his own signature toxin his mind hadn't been completely the same. The medicine had toned down the constant hallucinations to a near minimal, so now all he saw were brief flashes every once and a while. But it wasn't just the flashes that made his mind unstable, they were manageable with the right drugs, it was something else entirely.

It was _him. _

Jonathan had always known that the Scarecrow was with him, ever since the whispers had started early on in his childhood. He'd grown up with the constant companion, one who had done nothing more than keep him company and help to guide him in the right direction, and he was glad of the friendship that they shared. Needless to say, Jonathan hadn't been very popular in school and didn't have many friends. Scarecrow had always been there, nameless and developing in the background.

It hadn't been until he'd gotten into Gotham University that the entity in his subconscious had started to take on personality traits of its own. It started with the malice and the building resentment towards his peers, but then the whispering got stronger and started to suggest things to him. The worst part was, he _listened_. Jonathan wanted to be in control and have the power that all those bullies had over him for so long that he could taste it, and Scarecrow had made that all happen. In his own way, Jonathan was both envious and disgusted with himself for going along with what he'd promised.

Maybe that's why things had ended up the way they had, out of control and on a down ward spiral into Hell. Things had been good: he had finally made it to lead Psychologist at Arkham, he had good pay and a nice apartment, he even had a safe location to perform his experiments which were going to change the way the word looked at fear and it was ruined by one quick spurt of odorless chemicals. As if the fact that the whole incident had happened at all wasn't bad enough, the chemicals were his own design and there for only made the entire situation worse for him. His pride had been broken and his life had been taken, but the Scarecrow had stayed with him. And, with each passing day, he seemed to grow stronger.

With that strength came the increasing periods of blackness in his memory, periods where he couldn't remember anything at all. He wasn't really sure what went on while he wasn't in control anymore, those times when the Scarecrow exerted his power of him and stepped into the driver's seat, but he had a feeling that he probably never wanted to know. There was no telling what that part of him did on his free time. What surprised him the most though was the fact that those dopey doctors couldn't tell the two apart, blaming the Scarecrow's antics on him. It didn't matter that his entire personality seemed to shift and do a one eighty, he was accountable for everything.

The second time the two had met was in the recreation room about two weeks later when the Asylum directors were certain that they had enough security to handle the Joker. Jonathan had been in the corner closest to the window, a book in his possession, minding his own business when the guards had brought him in. He came in shuffling, chained head to toe in cuffs and escorted by two guards. The rest of the room had gone dead silent and moved out of his way when the guards un-cuffed him, darting to one side of the room or the other in an effort to avoid him. Jonathan, his nose still buried in a book, hadn't noticed his entrance.

That was his first mistake.

It wasn't until the Joker had some guy around the shoulders and in his grasp crying that Jonathan looked up from his book. He glanced back and forth between the two men, taking in the sight of the fear on the man's face and the elation on the Joker's. He sighed at the crude technique used to rouse the beautiful emotion out, but was happy to see it none the less. It had been so long since he'd last heard those anguished cries. God he missed them.

That was his second mistake.

Unfortunately, only a few minutes into the frantic babbling and crying the guards had beaten the tall man over the head with their knight sticks and drug him laughing from the room. Jonathan decided that the laughing was enough to make even him shiver in what resembled nervousness. This in its self was weird because Jonathan had always considered himself the emotionally detached one of the two: but Scarecrow had reminded him the no matter what the brain thought, it could never over ride primal instinct and basic human nature. No matter how hard Jonathan would want it to, Scarecrow was right and tended to always be right.

It was also him who told Jonathan that they'd thrown the Joker in solitary confinement because of his behavior. How he'd known was beyond Jonathan, but he didn't argue that point. He had sat quietly and listened to the whispering in his mind, the dark and raspy voice that hinted at fields filled with golden corn and open air. Jonathan didn't fight this time either. Instead he'd relinquished control to Scarecrow once more and retreated to the safety of his inner world. Best leave the little details to him and go along with whatever it was the Scarecrow was planning.

He resided in the dark seclusion for what could have been a few minutes or forever, Jonathan wasn't really all that sure.

When he came to once more, Jonathan found himself lying in the floor of one of the padded cells that told him he was in solitary. The soft walls were created so that the patient inside the cell couldn't do any harm to themselves, but the floor was slightly less covered than the walls. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, or why he felt like he'd been hit by a cinder block, but he knew that something had happened while he was away. Well, he'd just have to see when they let him out for their shower time. Someone was always talking about what happened, and if they wouldn't talk there was always the shrinks.

After what seemed like an hour to him, (he couldn't be sure anymore) the guards came to escort him to the group shower facility in this wing of the asylum. He wouldn't shower with the other patients because of the whole solitary thing, but Jonathan didn't mind that actually. He liked the quiet time to himself after all, not to mention he was slightly shy about his body. He'd always had a more feminine build, soft eyes, and high cheek bones and that had always made him self-conscious to a point. The other inmates only made it worse.

He'd been lead in and had already started to shower when the other occupant of the room was escorted in. The doors had banged open and two guards had shoved in the Joker head first, making him trip over himself and almost fall to the ground. He never stopped laughing. Even when the one guard had beaten him over the head, he never stopped laughing or seeming to enjoy the attention. Jonathan just couldn't seem to stop watching him.

The scars on his mouth weren't the only ones that marred his body either. His chest and torso were also covered in the fine, jagged, white scars that signified scar tissue. They ranged in size, shape, pattern, consistency, and direction. Jonathan had listened to Scarecrow as he told him that the Joker didn't need make up to accentuate his Chelsea grin, his scars were enough to make even his blood run cold. He could do nothing but agree with him and continued to silently shower under the farthest shower head in the bathroom.

"Hey yah Buddy!" said a shrill voice from behind him causing Jonathan's body to flinch and go ridged. "I, uh, don't think I've ever met yah! Let me introduce myself I'm..."

The Joker spoke loudly as he approached the smaller doctor, his eyes lit up almost as bright as a Christmas tree on steroids.

"I know who you are." said Jonathan quickly and curtly, not moving away from the man but still trying to keep his distance.

"Well good: that, uh, means I don't have to intro-**duce** myself huh?" he giggled once more, stepping up so that he stood next to Crane and almost touched him. "But, yah see, I don'**t **know who yah are. So, I have a proposition for yah. Why don't yah, uh, _introduce_ yourself and then we'll both know who the other is. How does that sound?"

Crane didn't look at him, instead reaching to run a hand through his hair nervously. He didn't flinch, he couldn't filch, and he couldn't even feel parts of his body now. It hadn't even occurred to him that the Scarecrow had wanted out until he felt the mental shove that pushed him back out of the controls, but not totally out of consciousness. He could still feel, see, and hear everything but he couldn't control what he said or the actions his body made. Instead he felt the other side of his personality taking over, the darker and more playful side. His voice was more confident, cocky even, and his body's posture slumped slightly in relaxation.

"I'm somewhat of an enigma my dear Joker." rasped the Scarecrow in his straw laden voice.

"Ah, so yah are two different, uh, people then huh?" The Joker said and smiled widely. "I knew that yah weren't the only one in there. I've heard about yah, but I wanted to see yah for myself. So, which one are yah?"

"Amazing…" he said, genuinely impressed that the clown before him could tell the difference between him and Jonathan. "I'm the Scarecrow."

Jonathan watched with intense concentration. He was trying, no willing, to make his companion stop before he did something that would only anger the bi-polar clown and get them both in traction, or even dead. But, no matter how loud he protested, the Scarecrow stuffed him farther and farther back and effectively silencing him. It seemed that he wanted to play with the interesting man: even Jonathan had to admit he was interesting, and see what made him tick. Even if that happened after he got the Hell beaten out of them.

"Well now, yah don't say." The Joker leaned in close and whispered into his ear lightly. "It's nice to meet yah Crow, Why don't yah let the other one out to play too?"

Scarecrow was startled for a minute, but remained cool and collected under the pressure. He was the Master of Fear, not only weakling Scarecrow, alternate personality of Jonathan Crane! He wasn't afraid of this man, and he was certainly not going to let him intimidate him into slipping up and letting Jonny back out here. His alternate personality certainly couldn't handle this kind of fun.

"That's too bad Joker because I'm the only one home at the moment." Scarecrow smiled and reached up to touch the Jokers clavicle and the scars that ran across it. "And I want to play, not Jonathan."

"Oh, ambit-ous are yah? I like a little, uh, _fight_." he grabbed Crane's roaming hand and retched it to the side, leaving his body open to a frontal assault. "But I don't want to play with yah, not yet. Why don't yah let Jonny boy out here? I'd like to meet him."

Scarecrow snarled and lashed out, trying to attack the deranged clown with all of his might. He was the one asking questions here, not some deranged clown! Unfortunately, Jonathan's body wasn't as tall as the two personalities would like it to be and there for left others around them to tower over him. The Joker had a good half a foot or so on him and easily over powered the irrational and flailing schizophrenic in front of him. He spun the man around by his arm and caught his other arm in his opposite hand, pining Jonathan's back to his torso and pulling his arms out so he couldn't move.

Jonathan began to panic inside of his mind, flailing and begging to be let out so he could get away from the Joker's grip and get as far away from him as he could. He _hated _being touched. Nothing bothered him more than to be touched without his consent. But Scarecrow didn't mind being touch and stayed in control, relaxing into the body behind him and letting his head roll backwards onto the taller man's shoulder. His eyes fluttered gently, dark eye lashes curling over pale cheek bones with a low groan.

"Mm, **harder**." He demanded, his head flopping to one side so he could face the Joker, trying to scare him into letting go. "I like to play rough."

"Oh ho now, I can, uh, _see_ that Crow." the clown whispered, pulling harder on Scarecrow's arms which earned him a low moan in response. "But I want yah to let Jonny boy out here so we can be properly in-tro-duced."

Scarecrow laughed and reared his head up, tilting it back down so that his posture was righted and supporting itself once more. The Joker retained his grip on the two arms, keeping the unpredictable man pinned effectively in a reverse bear hug. He waited patiently for something to happen, some phenomenal shift in personality that would signal the coming of the famed psychiatrists he'd heard so much about.

"He likes you, you know, _we _like you. We think you're interesting, a mystery that has a surprise ending that needs to be experienced." Scarecrow purred, practically fawning in ecstasy. "And _**I**_want to play with you."

"I'm sure yah do Crow, maybe we can con-tin-ue this at another time then?" he smirked and relaxed the pinned limbs slightly. "But I, uh, _want_ to talk to Jonny."

"He doesn't want to talk to you. He doesn't like it when someone touches him, he'll freak out if I let him back out here." Scarecrow said sadly. "Besides, I'm the fun one anyways."

"Well then, guess I'll just have to find some other way to entertain myself then."

Joker quickly leaned down and wrapped on arm around Crane's torso tightly and licked his ear, stopping at the bottom of the lobe to pause. Scarecrow moaned loudly as the Joker worked his way down his ear, bucking his hips in protest when the Joker paused. He urged the man behind him to continue with a slight roll of his back and hips, and growled when the actions ceased. He was so consumed with making the figure behind him continue that he didn't get a chance to prepare himself for the harsh pain that ripped through his lower ear. The pain was so swift and precise that it ripped Scarecrow out of control and shot Jonathan back into the saddle. He cried out loudly, wriggling and struggling within the Joker's grasp in his pathetic attempts to be released.

"L-Let go!" Jonathan shrieked. "Release me!"

Joker let him go and Jonathan careened into the tiled wall in front of him smashing his face and glasses into it. He hit the wall with such force that it spun him around, knocking his glasses off and smacking his head against the hall painfully hard with a loud "crack." He slowly slid down the wall to rest in the corner, facing the cackling clown with slightly blurred vision.

His form was now blurred in front of Jonathan, making his movements exaggerated and awkward. Jonathan couldn't focus on the moving mass with all of the blurriness and decided to squint to try and focus his sight once more. His nose wrinkled up slightly as he tried to desperately make out the shapes in front of him, but by the time he had the Joker was no longer in front of him.

Jonathan couldn't understand where he'd gone, the bathroom wasn't that big and Jonathan was sure the he didn't have the power to phase through walls like some comic book character. So, where'd he go?

"He yah Jonny…" said a giggly voice to his left. "Yah look like a derang-ed fish when yah pucker up like that, yah know?"

Jonathan started physically, flinching away from the harsh giggling that seemed to emanate from the shadowy mass on his left. He never even seemed to move, just reappearing where ever Jonathan least expected him to. It was starting to get on his nerves and even more so on the now grouchy Scarecrow's nerves. Jonathan could hear him griping in the background, muttering about a taunting tease of a clown that didn't follow through with his advances. Jonathan didn't want to know what he was going on about, but he was almost certain that it had something to do with receiving more unwanted touching and affection from the Joker. He most certainly _didn't_ want that.

"Cat got your, uh, tongue there Jonny boy?"

"No, just listening." said Jonathan cryptically, tuning out Joker to listen to Scarecrow once more.

"Well, you certainly ain't listening to me Dumpling. I, uh,_ like _to be listened to, not ignore-**d**."

_Finish were he left off Jonathan, you know you want to. Take him, he's ours to have! Be the one to break the famous Joker! _

Jonathan could hear Scarecrow whisper tauntingly in the back of his mind. It was serving to effectively distract him from all other trains of thought, taking his rational mind and turning it into something that resembled a soft porn romance novel. Himself and the Joker staring as the main characters, the Scarecrow playing as Jonathan's wingman.

_Come on already, I want to play with him. _Scarecrow whined sullenly, begging to be let out once more. _I'll make him shut up Jonathan..._

"No, no you won't." Argued Jonathan back, not noticing that he was talking out loud. "Shut up."

The Joker sat back and watched the show, the silent war being raged inside the ex-psychologist head next to him. It was kind of funny to him, to watch the sudden change in personalities from one extreme to the next. It seemed that the stories about old Jonny Boy were true: he was broken in more ways than one. Oh, this sort of thing just made the Joker so happy! Batsy had really done a number on this one! Ah the simple joys of broken souls and twisted minds, courtesy of terrible, mind altering drugs.

"Did yah just tell me to shut up Dumpling?" asked the Joker in mock seriousness, knowing full well that Jonathan couldn't see the large smile plastered on his face without his glasses. "Cause, I don't like to be told to shut up."

"Yes, yes I know what you're talking about." Jonathan continued to himself, not even bothering to regard the Joker as he spoke. "And no I don't want to know that thank you very much: there is no need for you to share."

Jonathan leaned forward into the water stream to grope around on the floor in search of his glasses, patting around on the tile in a lost way. He was still muttering under his breath while he groped around on all fours like a lost puppy. The Joker tried hard to stifle his giggles, placing his empty hand in his mouth and biting down hard. His other hand was currently stroking the curved glass of Jonathan's glasses lovingly, petting it in a fondness that he only showed his knives. Taunting Jonathan was just _so _much fun!

Suddenly Crane stopped moving, his head lolling down between his shoulders in a relaxed manner that suggested he was playing around instead of looking desperately for something valuable. His shoulders un-tensed and his back relaxed as he glanced back over his shoulder with a half lidded gaze, eyes drooping gently and wet hair streaming into his face. His bedroom eyes mixed heavenly with his stringing wet hair, giving him a doused stripper look and an air that screamed "sultry."

"I know you have our glasses Joker." said the deep voice of the Scarecrow once more, voice laced with lust and wanting. "Do you want to play keep away with me? I'm willing to play if you do."

The Joker couldn't help it, he laughed outright and hunched over on the floor of the shower in painful mirth. He wondered idly how Jonathan didn't realize he had his glasses, but the Scarecrow knew without looking where they were. They were two totally different people: Joker couldn't understand how the shrinks here missed the shifts! He knew about that to, he'd seen it in the files of Dr. Arkham last week when he got out. They didn't even have a clue about the two separate people currently housed in the one body of Jonathan Crane!

What got him more was how long Doctor Crane got away with working here, performing his experiments, and living his double life right under their noses. Jonathan always had a sense of haughtiness to him, but he had good reason to. These people were _idiots_! He was still fooling them and he wasn't even _trying_ to anymore! It wasn't like they were trying to purposefully ignore that he had duped them all, they just completely missed it all together!

"I like to, uh, play with people if that's what you're getting at Crow." The Joker smirked, reaching out and moving some of the wet hair from the man's delicate face with almost gentle finger tips. "Here, I think yah dropped these..."

He slid the glasses back on Crane's face gently, earning a deep groan from Scarecrow before him and a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. Joker realized that this must be Jonny, buried just beneath the surface enough so that he couldn't control his body's motion but still was able to experience what was going on around him. A trained eye could see that, and he most certainly had the eye for this sort of business. He wondered how Jonathan was coping in there, bottled up without a say but still able to feel everything. Jonathan didn't like to be touched, that much was for sure, but it seemed that the other occupant of his body most certainly did. Joker couldn't refuse a willing participant!

"Why thank you... What would you like me to call you?" Scarecrow asked, turning around and ambling back towards him seductively. "I can't very well call you Joker all the time now can I?"

"Oh, why yes yah can Crow. That's my name after all: don't want yah to call me anything but the Joker!"

Scarecrow pouted lightly, sticking out one perfectly pink lip and sucking on it gently. He continued to lean forward, positioning himself so that he was looking directly into the Joker's dark green eyes and leaning back on his heels. It was an odd display, two of the city's most deadly men chatting it up in the shower stalls in Arkham. It could almost be called insane, but wasn't that what they were there for?

"Fine, but don't except anything other than me right now. Jonathan is currently having a panic attack back here." He pointed to his temple and tapped it lightly.

"That's, uh, fine by me for now Crow. I really just wanted to ask yah and Jonny Boy a few questions though…" the Joker sat up and leaned back against the shower wall, never taking his eyes off of the man kneeled in front of him.

"Alright then, shoot Joker." Encouraged Scarecrow, motioning to him with his hand that wasn't supporting his upper body. "We're all ears."

"Do yah want to get out of here?"


	2. Running A Muck

Chance Encounters Chapter Two

**Dedicated to the wonderful Lauralot because she's an inspiration to me and my stories. I also want to dedicate this to all of the lovely reviewers, favers, and commenters out there in FanFiction land. Thank you very much and enjoy chapter two! **

**I don't own anything, all characters and settings belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers Studios.**

* * *

"_Do yah want to get out of here?" _

Jonathan kept repeating that over and over inside his head, wanting more than anything to be able to accept his offer and get the Hell out of dodge. Unfortunately, before he could accept, a couple of guards waltzed into the room and stood at the door.

If they were surprised to find Gotham City's two mass murdering psychopaths being chummy together, then they certainly didn't show it. Both stood stonily at the side of the room, not meeting eyes with either of the two men but not rushing in the break up the interaction. They were oddly quiet for security guards, and they were smaller than most of the orderlies at the Asylum. Crane should know, he handpicked most f them himself and stuck to rigorous standards. Come to think of it, Jonathan didn't even know who the two guards were. They weren't Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum from earlier that day either.

Something told him that these two didn't belong amongst the Arkham staff.

His suspicions were confirmed when the Joker looked over his shoulder with him to observe the new participants in the room, smiling as he did so. Joker slowly got up and moved against the wall until he was standing in front of the smaller man. He towered over him by a good foot or so, more so than he did over Jonathan. Yes, these men were definitely not guards here at the asylum.

Scarecrow watched as Joker began to speak to the smaller men, giggling and slapping the man on the back as he talked in hushed whispers. When the two responded with like smiles Scarecrow was bought and sold to the highest bidder. Well, that solved that mystery didn't it?

_He knows them doesn't he Scarecrow? _Asked Jonathan from his perch. _Those men, I don't know them. They don't work here, I should know. Something is happening here, I can feel it. _

_Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist Jonny Boy. Learn to live a little! _Was how Scarecrow responded.

Scarecrow grinned through Jonathan's lips, his smile only barely hinting at the malicious thoughts that were running through his head. He didn't exactly know what the men were doing here or what they had to do with the Joker, but he did know that it involved something devious and daring. Oh now, Scarecrow thought that he knew what went on around here by listening to Jonathan babbling on about protocol and procedures at Arkham, but this simply blew away any theory that Jonny Boy had about how life worked. These men had seemingly gotten through security without a hitch, effectively making their way to the restricted patients without a second glance. This was just too good!

He wondered who the two men had killed in order to fill their spots.

The laughter started silently at first, his lips barely parted as he sat underneath the still streaming water, but then they slowly grew in pitch and volume until they were the only sound in the solitude of the room. It had been such a long time since he'd laughed like this, being inside Jonathan didn't give him much opportunity to express himself as such. But this, this was the icing on the already growing cake. He knew the staff at Arkham to be complete idiots, what with missing the fact that they were two separate personalities and not noticing the unspeakable acts that went on right underneath their noses, but this just proved it without a reasonable doubt! Stupidity at its finest!

Joker turned around and watched the display on the shower floor. He thought he'd seen it all, but this was something he didn't expect to see. He knew about Doctor Crane long before he'd gotten the chance to formally meet the man, first laying eyes on him when he was escorted into Arkham after the Bat had subdued him after the little ferry incident. Everyone who lived in Gotham had heard about Fear Night in the Narrows a year or so back and the Joker was no exception. Jonathan Crane's name was passed around with these stories, stories that had made their way to the Joker quite a few times recently.

From that moment one he knew that he had to use this new development to his advantage and find as much information on the ex-psychiatrist as he possible could. What he found inside the quiet man's file had astounded him. Someone this much fun shouldn't and wouldn't be kept locked up for long!

The doctor had grown up in a rural town in Georgia, some place called Arlen, with his great grandmother Keeny to raise him. It didn't say anything about a mother or a father, so the Joker had just assumed that they hadn't been in the picture. The files hadn't known much about him up until he came to school at Gotham University when he was seventeen. He had graduated from school a year early, a testament to his brilliance, and so had escaped from the confines of hick-ville without a second thought.

Incidentally, the year before he came to Gotham his Great Granny had gone missing. Joker just found that way to convenient; he'd have to pester the good Doctor about it later. Anyways, he had come to the prestigious Gotham University on a hefty scholarship to study advanced psychology with a minor in chemistry, a passion his application to Arkham had said, and had graduated with high honors. From there he had gone on to receive his doctorate and then applied to Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. It hadn't taken him long to work his way up the social chain and make it to head psychiatrist, reigning over the place with an iron fist and a hidden vengeance.

The last part was what had gotten the Joker's interest the most, the dodgy background and the interesting revenge tactics he had used in order to make himself known was something that the Joker could use to his advantage. A brilliant mind like his shouldn't go to waste and the Joker planned to use it as much as he could. Getting the Scarecrow was just an added bonus to him, an extra variable that only made things more interesting. He was unpredictable, radical, malicious, and all around deranged, just the way the Joker like them.

They were going to have so much fun together!

He wondered just how the Scarecrow had come into being anyways. Normally, Schizophrenia and Dissociative Identity Disorder were caused by severe mental trauma somewhere in a person's life, usually in the early stages of life such as that of childhood. While Doctor Crane did seem to have both afflictions, the schizophrenia was the root to all of his paranoia and most likely caused by the drugs that had flooded his system. It was most likely falsely induced. Before that incident with the Batman he'd probably only had DID, not something that wasn't totally untreatable or manageable, but after the trauma and unstable chemical interaction his brain had warped into a former shell of itself causing the break with society that lead to his full incarceration.

Scarecrow seemed to be a manifestation of the Doctor's wants, needs, and actions that he could never carry out on his own. The Joker assumed that the Scarecrow was developed as a way to cope with the world around him. This, coupled with the severe narcissistic attitude and rage that sometimes ripped out of the normally quiet doctor, made the Joker wonder if something had happened to him early on in his childhood. Maybe something like severe visceral trauma, abuse and torture...

The Joker's musings were cut short when the Scarecrow stood up in the middle of the room and threw his head back into the stream of water, still laughing. He finished washing the soap out of his hair and stepped out of the water to grab the towel that was flung on one of the benches and proceeded to dry himself off and get dressed. It didn't take him long, a few minutes at the most, and he was readily standing next to the still nude Joker. He was still smirking widely, telling Joker that Scarecrow was still in control, and combing through his wet hair with his fingers.

"Are you going to stand there in the nude all day or are you going to let me in on the, _heh_, joke?" he asked, looking the two henchmen before the them up and down with a calculating glare. "They're your men are they not? I can tell they don't work for Arkham, Jonathan knew it too. They're too, what's the word, _stand-offish._"

The Joker giggled loudly and proceeded back over to the bench where his clothes were lying in a heap, grabbing and throwing them back on quickly. Soon, very soon, he'd be back in his old threads and be comfortably back in his seat of power at the head of Gotham's Crime syndicate. He wasn't the Clown Prince of Crime for nothing!

"You're, uh, right there Crow. These boys he**re** don't work for the guys at Arkham." he laughed loudly and slapped his knee in humor. "But those, uh, _idiots_ here don't know that! It's gr-eat!"

"Yes, we could have told you that Joker." Crane replied with a flourish of arms and malicious grins. "I mean about how they're getting us out of here. That is the plan correct?"

"Do I, uh, look like a man with a plan?"

"Are you talking plans or schemes Joker? There is a difference you know." retorted Scarecrow slyly.

"Crow," said the Joker, slapping the smaller man on the back and grinning widely. "I think I like yah already."

* * *

Indeed the men had been pre-arranged to break the two super villains out of Arkham, following a specific set of orders given to them by the leader of the small operation. This man, Patches the Joker had called him, seemed to be the Joker's right hand man and general organizer. Jonathan had prompted the Scarecrow to ask about this man known as Patches, but the Scarecrow had wisely told Jonathan to shut up and go along for the ride. Questions could always wait until they had made their escape. Now was the time for assisting in the liberation of Jonathan and himself.

"Patches said you's going to be here. He also said that you's wanted to be busted out Joker; we're here to bust you's out."

"Ah, good boy Dopey." cooed the Joker lovingly as he petted the top of the man's head lovingly. "Patches sent yah aye? Well then, hate to disappoint him. Whad'ya say Crow, you in?"

"Need you ask me such a question Joker?"

"I didn't think so Crow. I just knew yah would see it my way!"

"Indeed. Do you have a plan of escape then, or are we making it up as we go?"

"Making it up as we go along of course!" he replied happily, smiling widely at the frowning Scarecrow. "What fun would we, uh, have if we didn't take some…_risks_?"

"We could have plenty of fun." Said the Scarecrow darkly from behind the Joker, who had moved out in front of him to talk more with Moe and Curly. "In fact, why don't was go and have some preliminary fun before we leave? I know some _great _party jokes."

Joker stopped moving and turned to regard the torn doctor behind him, eagerness to know what he was talking about written across his face. It was the mild curiosity that Scarecrow found oddly entertaining, something that most people would have found annoying on anyone else. But not the Joker, on him it was close to being, well playful for lack of better words. A feeling that Scarecrow, as well as Jonathan, knew all too well.

"What did yah have in, uh, mind Crow?" asked the Joker as he bounced over to stand in front of Crane. "I don't have any weapons, and yah don't have any weapons, so what are yah _planning_?"

Joker spat the word planning out distastefully as he eyed Crane up and down, searching for an answer to his question. All he wanted to do was get out of the stupid place before someone noticed the disappearance of the two guards Curly and Moe had replaced. Not like that would happen any time soon though… those people were dumb.

"Why my dead Joker," drawled Scarecrow, moving to walk out in front of the small group and to the control panel at the far end of the wall. "You have no sense of adventure at all."

The Joker blinked and followed after him reluctantly over to the access pad, where Jonathan proceeded to punch in his access code through Scarecrow. He wasn't sure if they'd changed it yet or not, knowing them they hadn't, and prayed for this little bit of grace. When the door beeped loudly and the lock clicked within the inner mechanism, Jonathan and the Scarecrow shared a rare smile.

"Bingo."

"Wow, they really are, uh, _dumb_ aren't they Crow?"

"Quite so, but if not for their stupidity we would be unable to access the best parts of Arkham." He pushed the heavy door open with a little effort. "Namely, my old office."

The four men walked down the hallway silently, keeping an eye out for anything that could be posed as threatening. Jonathan was silently instructing Scarecrow on how to deactivate the security system temporarily so that they could sneak through, he'd had to use this tactic when he was the head of Arkham and he didn't want anyone to notice that patients went missing in the middle of the night. In a few minutes it would un loop itself and go back to doing its routine, allowing them enough time to pass through unnoticed.

Finally they reached the long hallway on the second floor that held the darkened office of Doctor Jonathan Crane, former psychiatrist turned psychopath. The smile faded from their face as Scarecrow picked the lock on the door and shoved it open quietly to reveal the gloom and disaster that had once been his prized jewel. They hadn't even bothered to clean it out when he left, opting to leave it as it was and just lock the door behind them. Fools, didn't they know that you just can't simply close off the past and hope that it doesn't come back to haunt you?

_Apparently they don't Scarecrow; otherwise they wouldn't have just up and locked the door behind us. IF they were smart, which I must say that they aren't, they would have gone through and gotten rid of everything in this office…_

"…including the extra mask and fear toxin in the fake bottom drawer. Brilliant Jonathan." Scarecrow said out loud, finishing Jonathan's sentence for him.

Truth be told, Jonathan really was a brilliant psychiatrist as well as a chemist. He'd been using others emotions against them ever since Scarecrow had met him, and he was still able to manipulate those around him without their knowing. If only the damned bat hadn't shown up, then they could have continued with their experiments in peace. Hell the police hadn't even caught on yet and they were the ones making the arrests! Come to think of it, that nosey little DA had been the only one to seemingly catch on to the whole situation…

"What ever happened to Rachel Dawes Joker?" asked Scarecrow politely as he entered into the shadowy darkness, the clown close on his heels. "Jonathan and I heard something about it briefly on the news on day, but I can't seem to remember what it said."

"That was Harv-_ey'__**s**_main squeeze right?" The Joker cackled wildly in the darkness. "She was in more than one place at once, if yah know what I mean Crow."

"Ah, I see." Scarecrow said, kneeing behind the dusty desk and feeling for the spring release to open the drawer that contained the prized possessions. "There we go."

With a faint clicking noise, the drawer popped open enough so that Crane could open it up fully and reach down into the bottom of it. The secret compartment had been a work in progress ever since Crane had started at the asylum, someplace he could hide his valuables so that no one could find them. Then, after he started his work, he used it to hide other things that his peers and coworkers could never see. His mask and a few vials of fear toxin, along with two preliminary wrist straps used for delivering the compound.

He picked them up fondly, cradling the leather straps as one would carry a small child, and sighed lovingly down at his labors and sacrifices. Almost ten years he'd worked on these, from the start of college up until that point in time, and now these were all he had left. The police had confiscated his other tools and mask when the bat had apprehended him, throwing them somewhere within the confines of evidence rooms that they had beneath the station, and left him with nothing more than an empty feeling and a very pissed off Scarecrow.

But not any longer, now he had something back to work with, even if it was the very primitive versions of his supplies. Even primitive things had their usefulness.

"I, uh, see your _plan_ now Crow. I like the look of things from here too, nice and chaotic."

"And fearful." Added a slightly euphoric Doctor Crane.

The sight of his life's work had been enough for Jonathan to come back out and take control of his body once more, imprisoning the taunting Scarecrow behind his barrier once more. He was sure that he probably shouldn't be doing this thing, getting mixed up with the Joker and his affiliates, but he just couldn't help himself. Not only was this another opportunity to send this damnable place into a massive collection of fear, it was also a chance to study the mystery known as the Joker closer and more in-depth. He just couldn't resist the chance to get to know the man better.

"Ah, Jonny Boy, you're bac**k**! Nice to see yah again. How was your, uh, _trip_?" Giggled the Joker, slapping the smaller doctor on the shoulder in mirth.

Jonathan grabbed the edge of the desk tightly to keep from toppling over, throwing a dangerous look over the back of his shoulder before righting the straps on his wrist. He slid them on and hid them underneath the sleeves of his jump suit, that way he always got the drop on whoever it was he came across. As he did so he fought back against the demanding tones of the Scarecrow who was protesting from his spot in Jonathan's mind, ticked off that he'd been sent into time out for a bit. Jonathan couldn't let him ruin this, not when he was so close to the justice he so deserved!

Once he was satisfied with their position, Crane gingerly pulled apart the opening to his mask and slid it on over top of his glasses. He didn't care what Scarecrow said, Jonathan needed his prescription to see! Once everything was in order he replaced the fake bottom to the hidden drawer and slid it back closed, making it look like it was never even opened. There were other things in the drawer that he might possibly need a later date and couldn't risk them being confiscated if they found the drawer.

"Are you ready Joker?" asked Jonathan quietly, standing back up to his full height in burlapped glory. "There are some _people_ that deserve my undivided attention and their hour is about to start."

_Are you going to let me play Jonathan? You know full well that you want to let me out to have some fun. _Sung Scarecrow in the back of Jonathan's head as he stared out of the eye holes longingly. _Come on, please? _

Normally the Scarecrow wasn't this polite, opting to never use the formalities with Jonathan if he didn't have to. The scratchy tone that made up the Scarecrow's voice was far from anything soft or soothing, but now it just sounded _hidden_. Most of the time he could just bully him into letting him out, but now Jonathan had something Scarecrow wanted so he was being nice about it. He wasn't going to be fooled that easily. Tuning him out was something he could do if he focused hard enough, as long as nothing startled him or distracted him.

"What cha doing Crane?" asked a breathy voice from right next to Jonathan's shoulder, making his jump in surprise. "Yah got that look on your face again, the one that says that you're concentrating, uh, **really **hard."

That was all it took.

Scarecrow took advantage of the sudden start and snapped back into control with the furry of a murder of crows, something that had always truly terrified Jonathan. Taking over his limbs and such was the easiest part though. Somehow Jonathan always remained slightly aware, no matter how hard Scarecrow pushed. True he could keep him in the dark and out of harm's way if he was allowed, which happed on occasion, but he couldn't totally turn out the lights on the other. They were a part of one another, belonged to one another, and there for needed one another. So sad though sometimes…

"That's because he was concentrating really hard Joker. Concentrating on keeping me out of the game and all locked away like some ridiculous red headed step child!" he pouted slightly, but then perked back up. "But all's fair in love and war and this, my dear clown, is a _slaughter_…"


	3. Pondering the Whim

**I'm sorry that this one is a bit shorter than the other ones, but I promise that the next one is going to be much, _much _longer. (It is the break out scene and deserves some lengthy goodness and justice!) Anyways, this one is completely from Scarecrow's point of view. He is reflecting on not only Jonathan's past, but also his own. He remembers their lives together and how they first met, something I took the liberty of developing myself because no one really ever deals with it. My background is influence by the comics and original story line for him, but there are certain elements that I change to fit better. I hope you like them as much as I do! **

**This one is for Spazberry because she is just to freakin amazing for words. Hats off to her and I demand that you go and visit her author's page! Her work is brilliant...**

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

It didn't take very long for Jonathan and Joker to make their way down the hall to the walk way and from there to the elevator that would take them down to the main lobby. Inside the drawer, along with Scarecrow's mask and Jonathan's toxin, was an elder set of keys that would work all the doors and elevators in the building. The key set was actually the original set of administrator keys, the ones that the staff thought that they had confiscated from him when he went rogue. (The ones that they had actually confiscated were his duplicate set) Scarecrow knew that if they hadn't bothered to change the security codes, then they certainly hadn't sprung the extra cash to change the locks.

In a way it was terribly ironic for him.

Even Jonathan could have a good laugh at their expense, which was something that both he and the Scarecrow could share in. Jonathan didn't laugh very often and when he did Scarecrow loved to either listen to him or partake with him. Jonathan's laugh was so beautiful and innocent, a complete opposite from that of his own. He envied it sometimes…

He also envied the young doctor when it came to matters of the brain and cleverness. Jonathan's sharpness was practically unmatched and no one but him could understand the depth of his brilliance. Scarecrow wasn't the smarter one of the two, opting more for the simpler and more basic approach to a situation than the carefully designed plans that Jonathan came up with, but he still knew a good laugh when he saw one.

And this was a good laugh.

As the two men, Scarecrow and the Joker, descended in the elevator with Moe and Curly, the four men were quite content with staying silent with their own inner monologue. Jonathan whining about whatever the Scarecrow said or came up with, picking it apart and coming up with his own ideas so that the two didn't get killed in the process of breaking out. In a way Scarecrow was both annoyed and grateful for the help, but he would never let Jonathan know just how deep his feelings actually went.

Why should he anyways?

It wasn't like it was a pressing matter between the two of them anyways. In fact, their lives were perfectly content to coexist with one another without the revelation of feelings. Although Scarecrow knew that Jonathan held the same feelings for him as he did for Jonathan. Just, some how he knew.

_We need to take out the security system at the end of the hallway when we get out of the elevator, otherwise they will see us coming. _Jonathan whispered carefully, making mental notes of all the little details that they needed to take care of before having their fun. _If they see this coming then we're never going to get a chance. They'll blow us away without a second thought. _

"Don't be so pessimistic Jonathan. You know that they only use lethal force on Tuesdays…"

_This is a Tuesday Scarecrow. _Thought back Jonathan haughtily. _And whether or not they use lethal force is beside the point, which is that we want to have some fun before we get out. Or am I just assuming again? _

"No, no, you're perfectly correct, as always." Scarecrow said as he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall of the elevator in leisure.

Jonathan continued to talk in the background of his mind, an insistent buzzing noise that only proved to make Scarecrow more and more bored. So much so that he began to let his mind wander else where, his eyes following suit. And wander they did until they came across something more fun to look at, something tall, dark, and surprisingly handsome.

Not to mention interesting.

The Joker was so much more interesting than everyone else gave him credit for. His scars alone were enough to get any two bit person calling themselves a psychologist interested, and Jonathan was no exception. That was actually how Scarecrow had first started thinking about the Joker and all of his potential. He'd found Jonathan thinking about him one night after an incident in the recreation room, something about making other patients cry in sheer terror, which had caught his attention. When he questioned Jonathan about it he had happily agreed to share the memory of that afternoon with him and together they had sat back and enjoyed it.

That night, after Jonny had gone to sleep and left him alone in the darkness of their cell, he spent his hours in solitude thinking about what kind of man he was and what would happen if the two of them ever met. Those had been some of the most productive hours he'd ever spent, something he couldn't say for every other night he spent keeping an eye out for Jonathan in his sleep. One of them always stayed awake to watch the other in the night, something they'd done ever since either one of them could remember, so that the other could sleep in peace. It tended to be Scarecrow because Jonathan was usually dominant in the day, leaving his alter to sleep during those daylight hours, however briefly.

Not that he really needed sleep, mind you, he didn't. He liked to lounge for the most part, but not really sleep. Sleeping was for the dead, and he was most certainly not dead. But he was getting side track again, something he tended to do easier now that those doctors had switched Jonathan's medication. Those chemicals affected both of them equally now, they did share a body.

Slowly his mind wandered back to where it was originally, thoughts of the Joker making their way back into his brain without interruption. He wondered what kind of man the Joker had been before whatever changed him happened. Scarecrow, as well as Jonathan, also wondered if it was something to do with his childhood. Something happened to _everyone_ during their childhood, he was certainly no exception. Maybe he'd gotten his scars from someone he knew, someone close and meant for comfort… Someone like his father.

Scarecrow snorted from his place against the wall and tucked his masked head down against his chest. He didn't see that the Joker was also watching him very intently, a look of pure wonder and joy written across his face.

"What cha laughin' about Crow? You, uh, think of something _funny_ did yah?" He laughed as he pushed off the wall he was also leaning against and stepping across the room to close the gap between them. "Come on: share it with the rest of the class!"

"Not something funny Joker, something hysterically ironic." Responded Scarecrow mildly, not even bothering to look up at the man who was close enough to reach out and touch. "But it is of no concern at the moment."

"Ah, come on and tell me would yah! Don't leave me in, uh, suspense!" The Joker leaned down even more, so that they were only inches away from one another. "Come on, the suspense is _killing_ me!"

Scarecrow raised his head up and watched the Joker flit about the enclosed space, almost nervously. It seemed that the man didn't quite know what to do with himself, opting to let his hands roam around and twiddle with his jumpsuit in his eagerness to get out of the elevator and into his new found playground. He was physically displaying all of the emotions that Scarecrow himself wanted to let out, but Jonathan held them in check with an iron fist. Sometimes Jonathan just made him want to scream.

"It can wait Joker," he said, stepping forward as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the main hallway. "We have a job to do."

With that he strode out into the hallway, looking for the dull control panel that he knew to be just a few feet away from the elevator. It was dark in the poorly lit hallway, it was always dark he in there he found, but today it was unusually so. Either it was later in the day than he thought it to be or it was storming outside.

Storms, how he loved them.

The same couldn't be said for Jonathan though. He'd first met Jonathan during a storm actually, back when they were still living on the family farm in Georgia. The poor kid was terrified of the dark, something not too uncommon for children, and had buried himself under his covers. Jonathan's crying in the silent dark was the first real memories that Scarecrow had of his very own, not ones he shared with his other. It was one of the reasons he loved the storms and also one of the reasons he hated them.

Well, not them exactly, what they brought. In the dark of the old family house with a flapping of wings and the terrified screams of a small boy, leaving Jonathan for Scarecrow to tend to and comfort. He really actually had mixed feelings for Great Granny Keeny, but not exactly for those reasons. He hated and loved her for what she did to Jonathan and him, but she was also the reason for his existence so he couldn't hate her completely.

But he could still despise her.

.Once again though, he was rambling.

_Damn the medication change and damned those foolish doctors!_ He cursed mentally to himself. _They'll pay though, oh so soon they'll pay. _

After a few more minutes of searching for the box in question he found it in the gloom of a support pillar to his left. Jonathan and he used to visit this same box everyday, right before they would tend to the _special_ patients at night. He still remembered how to disable the security systems with ease.

After a few minutes of careful and calculated wire pulling and rerouting, the security system shut off with a faint hissing and all of the locks on the main door's locks snapped open loudly in the silent halls. The noise reverberated off of the walls and cells that lined the way, bouncing back to the small group after a few minutes of uninterrupted sound. It unnerved Jonathan immensely that no one immediately came rushing to see what the noise was.

_Where is everyone Scarecrow? They should come rushing to see what that noise was! It's to…_

"Quiet, I know." Finished Scarecrow calmly. "Where are all the orderlies, nurses, and doctors?"

"Probably kanoodlin in some dark little alcove somewhere, wouldn't yah say Crow?" The Joker giggled as he stepped around him lightly, followed closely by Curly and Moe.

"It's true, they're all idiots Joker, but they wouldn't just leave their posts as such. Something is up, stay on your toes." Demanded Scarecrow gruffly, walking around the end of the hall to round the corner swiftly. "There's something rotten in Denmark."

"Righty O Crow!" the Joker said as he saluted and followed after him closely. "Where are we going now?"

"That's a secret. If I told you I would have to kill you." He joked back lightly, searching the wall for the mechanism that he knew to be there. "You're just going to have to wait and see."

"You're no fun Crow…" Joker pouted lightly.

"I know."

It didn't take him much longer to find the tile that opened up to reveal a hidden panel with two buttons on it. The black button on the right was the one he wanted, it being the one that would open the secret emergency passages that lead all over the asylum. The other button, the red one on the left, was the panic button. The tunnels were something that no one else but he and Jonathan knew about. Well, them and Amadeus Arkham, the original founder of the mental facility. He used to use the hallways frequently back when he was director to usher test subjects back to their cell when others would notice them in the halls.

They were one of their greatest guarded secrets in their shared arsenal.

After he pushed the button, and the door slid backwards to reveal the dark passages, Scarecrow turned around to regard the rest of the group with a wide smile underneath of his mask. God he missed his job sometimes…

"Well Joker, are you quite ready to get out of here now?"

"Oh Crow, you sly, **sly** dog."


	4. Quit Clowning Around

**Okay, so I'm a liar then. This isn't the big bad break out scene I promised, but I think it is something just as good. So, techically if you combined this chapter with Jonathan's previous one then it would be a normal length one. I like this chapter though, Joker is so hard to write for me but I like this one. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!**

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

Indeed he meant every word of it, the Joker did. When he'd fist arrived at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, the smell of death and fear were the first smells to greet his nostrils. He knew the smells all too well in his line of work and quickly went to find the source of them, expecting to find his name or reference somewhere along the way.

He hadn't.

Instead he'd found a whispered name in the dark of Arkham, one he'd never heard before and didn't sound anything like his own. At first he had been offended; opting to beat some guy's skull in for simply muttering it in his almighty presence, but as the man bled out onto the floor beneath him he never stopped uttering the name. Whoever this "Scarecrow" fellow was, he was in for a rather rude awakening if he thought he could take the turf right from underneath the Joker!

Upon further investigation, he found that it wasn't this Scarecrow who was stealing the territory from him; it was he who was stealing it from the Scarecrow! Boy had he been surprised when he learned that little tidbit of information. Come to find out the big and bad Scarecrow was nothing more than a 5' 9" bag of bones! The man was no more threatening in appearance than a mouse, let alone enough to terrify the entire lot of Arkham, so why was everyone so afraid? He certainly couldn't understand it…

But that was before the day in the recreation room, the day he first got to see the man in person. When the Joker had been led into the well guarded room, in full cuffs and precautionary measures no less, he hadn't spotted anyone out of the ordinary. A few crazies here, a couple of sociopaths there, nothing much to bother with for the most part: but then he spotted him.

There, in the corner of the room with his nose buried in a book, sat the man that everyone in the asylum had been talking about since he'd gotten there nearly two weeks before. The good Doctor, former head of the asylum in fact, was not even paying any attention to him either! That would most certainly have to change if they were going to become friends!

So he'd done like any other good friend would do, grab the nearest person and instill some good old fear in him. The lucky candidate, Joker used the term affectionately, had only lasted about a minute before he burst into hysterics and disrupted the entire room. But, on the brighter side, he had managed to catch the doctor's undivided attention.

As Joker had observed him out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the doctor's eyes had shifted back and forth between him and the man crying in his grasp. He wasn't sure what was going through his mind at that moment, Jonathan's blue eyes held no betraying emotions in them, but he was sure that it had something to do with him and the fear the man was exhibiting. The Joker could smell it, it was pungent in the room like a great cloud of perfume, and if he could smell it then the doctor could smell it. Other predators like him and the Crow could smell things like that, madness smelling as wonderful as any fragrant flower ever would.

Oh his homework had paid off in the end!

Unfortunately, his little fun time was cut short by those guards who had come in and knocked him upside the head with their night sticks. He had never stopped laughing, never showed any weakness or relents as they drug him from the room, a pair of blue eyes trained on his retreating form.

During his time in solitary, the Joker had lots of time to think about the interesting encounter with the man known simply as Scarecrow. Well, one of the two men that he'd seen within the doctor's pale blue eyes that was. Oh yeah, he certainly hadn't missed that one either! He had clearly seen two separate people gazing out from beneath the carefully guarded gazed of Jonathan Crane: one who he assumed was the actual Jonathan Crane and the other one to be the infamous Scarecrow. No one could have missed that…

Well, he thought not at least.

Oh how he had been wrong.

Later that night, after he busted out of his cell and made his way down to Doctor David Thurman's office, he was appalled to find that not a one of the other doctors at the asylum had seen it. True, it seemed that Jonny Boy had worked there with him for quite a while before the whole toxin incident, and they had been colleagues at one point or another, but to miss something that blatantly obvious had just floored the Joker completely. There really was no end to humanity's stupidity.

"What other secrets are yah _hiding_ from me, uh, Jonny Boy?" He had asked no one in particular in the dark of the abandoned filing office. "You're turning out to be quite the in-**ter**-esting person here!"

He had continued to dig around in the cabinets for anything that he might of missed when he came across the file that held all of the deepest prospects of Crane's personality, all the way down to his childhood and almost none existent background. Who ever had done the research had either been severely lazy or extremely underpaid, either way their knowledge was lacking. The Joker would have to take it upon himself to add to the files.

So, slowly over the next few days, he had scrawled notes in red pen across the pristine white sheets of paper that made up his file and placed them carefully back within their resting spot in the drawer. Every night he would return with more and more thoughts about the subject, often returning three or four times before going back to his cell for the night. He didn't sleep much anyways. And the best part was no one seemed to notice his little "additions" either.

This pattern continued for a while until the pages were filled with tight, cramped writing that made no sense to anyone but him. Well, if those shrinks had any brains they'd know what it meant, but they didn't so it was futile to try to read it anyways. That morning had been later than usual, so he had drug himself back to bed and slept until the guard came in and said something about shower time.

This just so happened to be the fourth day in solitary, yet another day in the showers alone with no one to play with. Or, at least that's what he had thought before entering the room to find another occupant… just the person he'd been wanting to see! The man eyed him cautiously before returning to his shower in utter silence, no fun if you asked the Joker.

He'd just have to change that!

Joker bounced over to the thin man and proceeded to introduce himself, grinning like the madman he was. He knew right away that there was the other personality, floating just above the surface at the back of Crane's mind just waiting to be let out. He could hear its pleas just as if they came from a living being before him, even though the words were unspoken. What had the two men done to end up here in solitary with him? Or, better yet, was this day going to get any better?

The Joker thought not.

He had only started to long process of introducing himself when the quiet doctor had cut short his display with a few well placed words, cutting him to the quick without a second's hesitation. Joker was impressed to say the least, no one but the Batman had stood up to him like this in quite a while. It was refreshing to say the least, and so he had pretty much ignored the whole thing in lew of getting a new buddy to play with. He could almost instantly tell that the Scarecrow and Doctor Crane were _so_ much more then they first appeared to be. Madness had a certain way of calling out to its own kind.

It hadn't taken much prompting on his part either to get the Scarecrow out and joined in on the party, leaving Jonny to sit bitch on this one. Poor baby blue, Joker had almost felt sorry for him… that was until the Crow had spoken. That boy was _so_ much fun! He was the complete opposite of Jonathan, unbound and unrestricted by the rules of everyday living. He even went as far as to touch him voluntarily, gentle fingertips tracing year's worth of scars down his clavicle. That had sent pleasant shivers down his spine…

So Joker touched him back.

Then the Crow had taken offense at something or other, Joker couldn't really be sure what he'd said to the scrawny man, and lunged at him. Not that that had bothered him in the least, on the contrary actually, it had only fueled his excitement. Well, that and the little show that the Crow was putting on for him. His features were more feminine than any other man's he'd ever seen before, long dark eye lashes against high cheeks bones and soft, full pink lips. Crane would have been quite the prize if he wasn't locked up here with the rest of the loonies! It seemed that Scarecrow even liked it rough, just the way that he happened to like it.

His mind seemed to be on a downward spiral today, thinking thoughts like that, but chaos had a funny way of dealing with things in life. He ought to know, he was an agent of it. But that hadn't stopped him from having what little fun this place allowed, exercising his strengths when he could, and showing restraint when he couldn't. He was even getting better about putting up with those imbeciles that called themselves doctors and paraded around in white coats and glossy black shoes. It was clear to him that the only _actual_ doctor around here was currently under lock and key in the body wrapped in his arms.

Not that that was a bad thing, oh no, it made him feel good about the entire situation. It meant that when Curly and Moe showed up that he'd be able to get away Scott free with his present company in tow. And, if anything happened to come up unforeseen, he'd have someone who knew Arkham, like he knew the back of his hand, to guide them through. These sorts of old buildings were just chalked full of nooks and crannies to hide in, and the best part was that it seemed both Jonathan and Scarecrow were just as interested in him as he was in them!

Can you spell perfect?

The Joker could, and it was spelled J-o-n-a-t-h-a-n! Well, that or S-c-a-r-e-c-r-o-w… He wasn't really sure which spelling he liked better. Currently he was leaning towards Jonny, but that was only because his alter was being a royal pain and not letting Jonny out to play with him. But he was sure that he could play Crow right into his hands and force him to let Jonny Boy out, whether he liked it or not. All he had to do was use the information Crow had given him earlier and apply it directly to him.

Jonathan really didn't like to be touched after all. His sudden, and violent, shift from passively enjoying the affections to suddenly hating them and wanting away from his supposed "attacker" was enough to make the Joker drop dead from laughing. When Jonny had crashed into the wall after he let him go, he had indeed laughed, but silently so that he could get the drop on the momentarily blinded man. If he played with him a bit then maybe, just maybe, he'd warm up to the idea of working with him and not to ask stupid questions. The squinty face Jon had made almost ruined the entire deal though…

And, as if the day could get any better, then man started to have an actual _conversation_ with his dormant and clearly pissed off personality. Joker had been slightly put off by that, but quickly dismissed it when Jonathan had continued to argue with his inner demon. He knew that Jonathan's condition had been worsened after his encounter with a familiar pointy eared night rat, but he wasn't aware of the extent of the damage. The stressed psychologist was slipping slightly, must have been the new meds Arkham had put him on recently, otherwise he didn't think that Jonathan would show this side of him to anyone.

Least of all his present company.

As he had slid down the wall to watch the show before him, Joker had noticed something silver and shiny on the floor of the shower near his feet. Upon leaning down to inspect whatever it was, he found it to be none other than the grumbling man's missing glasses. The frames were light in his hand, no metal for fear of turning it into a weapon and what not, and the glass seemed to be of the cheapest quality. Ah, only the bare minimum for the likes of them.

He held onto them for safe keeping as Jonathan got on all fours and began to grope around in the stream of water, head down and hands out in front patting the ground before him. Joker didn't know how bad his vision was because he himself never needed any vision correction, but he could imagine it being pretty bad by observing the scene before him. He was musing on the very idea when the man before him seemed to…shift for lack of better words. Instead of the rigid posture that he so often carried himself with, Crane's body went loose and his head rolled slightly downwards.

_Scarecrow must be back… Oh what fun! _

The shift wasn't all that subtle either, so Joker wondered just how exactly these idiots here could miss such a momentous thing. If it was more of a smaller shift he _might_ be able to see it, however, it wasn't and he couldn't. Just another piece of evidence against the human race it seemed, proving against all doubts that they were made up of a bunch of idiots.

So he decided to make his move with Jonny Boy, asking him like a teenager would ask a prom date to escape with him. He really could use all of the help he could get, this being slightly unfamiliar ground and what not. Well, he wouldn't be once Moe and Curly decided to finally show up… And then all of a sudden they'd appeared in the door way, just when he was getting ready to have some _real_ fun with Crow.

But, never the less, the two men had left the room in one another's company and made their way to some kind of "fun" that both the Crow and Jonathan had provided for them. They also swore up and down that it would be worth their while to do so, even if it wasn't their normal sort of fun. Right now though, Joker was game for just about anything. Even a debate about schemes and plans; which he was so very fond of.

The Joker was having a wonderful time!

It was just like two regular chatty Cathy's walking down the halls of a high school instead of two psychopaths walking free down the halls of the very asylum which was deemed suitable to lock them in. The three of them, well Jonathan and Crow, were having a healthy conversation while the Joker was left to study outside of the entire thing. But he was content to stand and watch happily, smiling at the odd, seemingly one sided conversation going on before him.

They even got to talk about Harvey's squeeze for a bit, which came as a surprise to him. That wasn't what passed as "normal" table conversation in most of Gotham, but it just seemed to randomly come into context here. They really had been messing with Jonathan's meds again. Oh well, the fun plan in that secret drawer in his desk was more than enough to make up for it.

But the mask just looked awful on him! It covered up all of his most beautiful features, leaving only rough burlap to grin out at the world. But the Joker supposed it was something like his scars, a way to show everyone else that he wasn't like them without actually causing himself harm. A symbol of both his physical and emotional state, forever ruined by the outside world around him: but Joker would never know why he'd picked a damned Scarecrow. But it still could have been prettier…

When the elevator had come to a sudden stop, he'd only jumped slightly from anticipations rather than anxiety. He'd been fiddling with his jumpsuit only minutes before, talking with the seemingly calm man leaning against the wall of the metal death box. His time had come, their time had come. They were going to have their fun soon, oh so very soon!

It was tonight that the Scarecrow and Clown walked together.


	5. Fear and Loathing Part I

**This is part one of the break out scene. I wanted to break it down so that you can really get a feel for the emotions running through the asylum, as well as each individual's perspective. I think that Scarecrow and Joker would get along quite well if the ocassion called for it, each one of them enjoys fear as well as control and shock value. They're both drama queens if you ask me... Anyways, on with the show!**

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

The dark tunnels seemed to run all over Arkham: up stairs, down corridors, and behind all of the important offices of the big wigs of Arkham. Joker tailed behind the Scarecrow slightly, holding onto the back of his jump suit so that he didn't get lost in the darkness. Neither of them could see very well, but Crow seemed to know where he was going so Joker kept up with him. Jonathan was directing the two as they went, telling Scarecrow where to go by the feeling of the notches in the wall at cross ways. His own brilliant design if he did say so himself.

It was just the two of them now (three if you counted Jonathan), Moe and Curly being dismissed so that the two men could have their fun in peace, but both men would have it no other way. Now they could roam about without interference or anyone to get in their ways.

"Where are we, uh, going Crow?" asked the Joker in the blackness that made up the corridors they were in. "I can't _see _anything in here!"

"For someone who is always talking about themselves in a feral context, and making comparisons between yourself and dogs, I would think your other senses would have taken over by now." Scarecrow responded with ease, adjusting his glasses beneath the mask. "One of the wonders of our bodies is, when one sense fails then another takes over in its stead. Brilliant if I do say so myself…"

"Yah would, uh, find that especially inter-esting huh?" the Joker laughed for emphasis to his point here. "Crow, I think yah and Jonny Boy share a common mind, as well as drive in life."

"Probably, we do share a body so I don't see why we couldn't share motivations as well." He tapped his chin lightly through the burlap mask. "In fact, I can see why some of the incompetents around here can't tell us apart. We do have a tendency to slip into one another's personality sometimes."

"Yah could act like one another if yah wanted to, but there is definitely a difference. There are, uh, certain _aspects_ that identify you two as sep-er-ate **entities**."

Scarecrow paused in his movements, halting his walking so that the Joker bumped into him from behind. In the close proximity of the dark, both Jonathan and Scarecrow could hear the clown behind them breathing deeply. Normally his breathing was rapid and irregular because of the giggling, but now it was deep and even. If he knew it wasn't a lie, both men would say that it was almost a _calm_ manor being exerted from him.

Jonathan knew something was wrong…

Suddenly, with a violent shift and shudder, Jonathan was back into the reigns and in full control once more. He was still trying to get total feeling back into his fingers and toes, but otherwise he was feeling pretty good. Hands let him know that the Joker was still clinging to the back of his jumpsuit, standing patiently with only slight fidgeting and impatient.

"Something, uh, wrong there Crow?" asked the Joker, not knowing the shift that just happened. "Yah stopped suddenly."

"I was just thinking of something rather odd Joker." Said Jonathan, using Scarecrow's voice and verbal patterns so that he didn't let Joker know he was back quite yet. "Do you fear the dark, what you can't see? You're holding onto the back of my jumpsuit rather tightly you know."

Jonathan smiled widely in the dark, knowing that the Joker couldn't see his smirk in the light absent halls. It made him feel good to have a clear advantage.

The Joker's hands gripped and loosened on his jumpsuit twice before responding, anger evident in his voice.

"You're, uh, _pushing_ your luck there Crow." He growled. "And no, I'm not afraid of the dark. I just don't wanna get lost in here, that isn't on my list of things to, uh, do tonight."

Jonathan sighed lightly but started to move forward again, unsatisfied with the answer that the clown had given. He knew that the Joker had to fear something, he was human after all, and not matter how hard he tried to deny it Jonathan knew that there was always _something_.

_He's probably afraid of something mundane, something that you'd find everyday. Just because he's special doesn't mean that his_ fears_ are something special. _Came the smooth voice of none other than the Scarecrow from the back of Jonathan's mind as he continued to lead through the dark. _The dark, water, heights maybe… Oh, I know! How about the fear of being normal, of falling into the crowd and being unable to be make an escape, of being _unrecognizable_?_

Jonathan had to smirk at this, something so mundane brining immeasurable joy into his dark and dank life. Ever since he was imprisoned in his own institution, Jonathan hadn't had a chance to explore new fear. Now he only had what was in the rec. room with him at any given time, which wasn't much, and it was far from being any kind of advance in his scientific research. But this, this was going to make the world so much better for him!

"Perhaps then, a little bit of fear and chaos is in order? I know I've been wanting to _personally_ take care of some of the pompous doctors around here myself." He said, malice very evident in his words. "What do you say, are you in?"

"Well it's about, uh, time there Crow! Way to get into the spirit!" Replied the Joker, giggling and fidgeting from behind the smaller doctor. "We're going to be the en-vy of the entire asylum!"

"Indeed."

They continued for a while longer, taking a few more sharp turns and going down a set of crudely carved stairs before Jonathan stopped and turned the handle to open the secret door that would lead them into the main lobby and to their eventual freedom. From here it was only a short bit to the open gates of Gotham City and their new found happiness. Luckily, it was getting close to lights out and all of the doctors and other employees not on the night shift would be leaving soon.

They'd be light shooting fish in a barrel.

All they had to do was lay low and wait to pick them off as they came by, one by one falling with the musical sounds of screams and terror. A symphony was about to be conducted within the leaky halls of Arkham and Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, and the Joker were the conductors.

"Are you ready Joker?" asked an already high Dr. Crane. "Things are about to get _wonderful…_"

A loud cackling was heard around the open room as the Joker tossed his head back and laughed deeply, mouth wide open to show his yellowed teeth and wagging pink tongue. His scars stretched out widely as his mouth widened farther and farther to let out the loud stream of giggles, looking close to ripping apart at the seams as the howls peeled out of him. Jonathan stood back and watched the show carefully, making mental notes that he could hopefully use later on, and smirking slightly. He would never admit out loud that he was looking forward to this.

"This is, uh, going to be _so_ much fun Crow!" he said, skipping over to the open door happily. "Shhh, here comes the first one of the night! Mine or, uh, _yours_?"

"You can have this one Joker: there are a select few that I'm waiting for." Said Crane, still smirking as he leaned against the doorway.

"Oh goody, I'll be righ-**t** back!"

Jonathan watched as the Joker slipped one hand in the front of his jumpsuit, into the large pocket sown on the front of his uniform, and pulled out a long, thin blade of metal. He wasn't sure where the clown prince of crime had gotten the shank from, and he probably didn't care to know either. As the Joker slipped through the doors the two companions who had been left behind started to reflect on how well the evening seemed to be going, the sounds of terrified screams playing in the background.

_Do you think that that was such a good idea Jonathan? You know, he is sort of a loose canon. _

"Oh yes, like you're one to talk Scarecrow. Aren't you the one who decided that it was a good idea to take on the Batman and ended up getting us gassed?"

_Touché Jonathan. _He went quiet for a while, lulling Jonathan into a false sense of security. As he listened to the frantic screams and pleading through the doorway, the voice like straw came back through his mind once more.

_No matter, no one can stop us now anyways, not with the Joker on our side. He is unstoppable, a force to truly be reckoned with. _

"You act as if we can't hold our own Scarecrow, is there something I need to know?" Jonathan mocked back, a smug smile flitting across his mouth once more. "Or are you just giddy to get out and have some fun once more?"

_That is like asking you if you're tired of being a door mat to society Jonathan, you really don't have to ask. _His other smirked mentally and continued on, despite Jonathan's mocking tone. _Such questions tonight and yet you are smirking yourself… Is there anything_ I_ should know Jonathan? _

"Nothing to which you already don't have access to Scarecrow, you of all people should know that I can't with hold information from you."

"Can't, uh, with hold **what** information Jonny Boy?" asked a ragged sounding voice from his left. "Is there something yah aren't telling me, or am I just hearing thing-s again?"

"Nothing that concerns you, my dear Joker." Assured the demented psychologist, moving in front of him slowly to observe him.

The clown was covered head to toe in what could only be described as blood, guts, and gore. He was still grinning like the lunatic he was, the only difference in his appearance the face he had painted himself using the decapitated nurse's blood. His atrocious smile was once again stretched across his face fully, and his eyes shown brightly with immeasurable glee.

"Ohhhhh." He said, the conversation he had only partially over heard ringing through his ears. "Got some crows in your belfry huh?"

"Indeed, that would seem the case." Jonathan didn't smile beneath the mask, the fact that the Joker recognized them as the separate entities they were disturbing enough as it was. "He's getting restless."

"W-ell then, why don't we go and, uh, **find** something for Crow to do then? I'm sure that there are some lovely doctors around here that have his name written _all_ over them!"

Jonathan couldn't help but smile fondly at this. The Joker had such a childish way of seeing things sometimes, but maybe that's why he always seemed to take everything as a joke or at face value. His psyche was like that of a small, demented, homicidal, child. That was something that he just couldn't, no matter how hard he tried to, relate.

"Please do lead the way then." He said, gesturing to the hallway the Joker had just emerged from. "This main entrance will take you anywhere in the asylum you want to go."

If it was possible, then the Joker's eyes lit up even more until the wattage was sure to out do even the sun. Jonathan simply rolled his eyes and waited patiently for him to do something other than stand there and smile at him. He wish he hadn't.

"Oh Jonny Boy, yah make me happy!" he said, lunging and grabbing Crane around the waist in a tight bear hug, lifting him up off the ground and twirling him around. "Did yah know that?"

Jonathan and Scarecrow both groaned as their arms were pinned to their sides and their body was lifted up off the ground. There wasn't much that constituted their body, mostly bones and sinewy muscles that could hardly count as anything, so their bones grated against one another as they were squeezed tightly. The Joker seemed to think that this was the best thing in the word, but Jonathan just hated physical contact.

"Joker… I can't –breath-… let me go!" he half shouted to the manically grinning clown. "Put me down **now**!"

Joker stopped twirling around long enough to look the smaller man in the face, smile spreading to more than just his mouth. His eyes twinkled brightly still, happiness evident to even the most emotionally stunned people, but his posture and actions told Jonathan that he truly was _happy_. He just didn't, couldn't understand.

"Ah, sorry there Crow… I, uh, _forgot_ that yah don't like to be touched." He dropped him unceremoniously to the ground, the thin man hitting the floor loudly. "Should we be on our way?"

Jonathan frowned at the man but still followed after him as he scampered down the hall, skipping and giggling as they made their way down the long hallway. Scarecrow thought that this site was the most hysterical that he'd ever seen before, but didn't challenge Jonathan for control just yet. It seemed that he was biding his time, plotting his next move. That worried the good doctor slightly, but he didn't say anything as they continued.

The pair hadn't gotten halfway down the way when a small group of nurses and orderlies rounded the corner, five of them total, and stopped dead in their tracks. The three women's eyes went wild in fright at seeing the two escaped convicts strolling around freely and the two men moved to stand in front of the smaller women. Chivalrous pigs right till the end.

"Crane, Joker, what are you doing out of your cells?" the one on the left, Braham, said menacingly.

The Joker stopped and turned to look at Crane, appearing to ignore the small group for a few seconds as he spoke. His smile never faltered, only seeming too grown in viciousness. The Joker must have sensed his hatred for the burly guard, picking it up and feeding on it.

"Well Crow, ready to have your fun yet?" he asked, turning slowly back to the people who had backed up slightly. "These mine or yours?"

Scarecrow laughed and began to push, demanding Jonathan give up control of their body so that he could have some deserved fun. He'd been relatively good for the past month or so, only messing up so that he could get a better look at the Joker. Jonathan silently relented and faded into the background without another word.

"Of course Joker." he said, shoulders slumping and posture changing as Scarecrow resumed control once more. "What do you think we should do with them? I'm fond of skinning personally, although I have been _dying_ to try out that knew technique I learned about recently. What was it? Oh yes, drawn and quartering!"

The fear seemed to ooze from the women and men, both groups trying to put on a brave front. Women were the easier sex to frighten, they seemed to have more types of fear than men did but they were less practical and more absurd, so Scarecrow started with them first. The men were more fun to break, seeing their once proud forms crumble beneath his special touch almost as addictive as a drug to him.

There had been a time, not so long ago, that he didn't have his fear toxin and relied solely on Jonathan's ability to induce fear with a few words. They could still do it, that sort of talent just doesn't disappear, but the toxin worked so much quicker and gave such satisfying results. The toxin had been a combined effort for them to, Scarecrow using his knowledge of primal fear and instinct combined with Jonathan's pharmacology and chemistry degree, put those together and stir in a bit of terrified screams and you would have what they'd developed.

Truly they made a wonderful team.

He stalked forwards menacingly, arms casually swinging at his sides and head tilted off to one side, walking slowly as to draw out the pleasure the scene was giving him. Thank God Jonathan was still in control of their bodily responses, otherwise the two sides would have been_ very_ embarrassed. He wasn't walking with anything but his normal swagger, minus the time absorbing slowness, but that was enough to send the women over the edge into hysterics.

"Aw, why are yah crying Nurse Swanson?" asked the Joker, stepping so that he stood in front of the huddled women. "Yah look like yah've seen, uh, a ghost or something!"

He let loose another torrent of cackles, the women flinching at the harsh sound and the men taking a step back. It frustrated Jonathan and Scarecrow slightly, to see the orderlies more afraid of the Joker then himself, but he kept his cool. If he didn't keep his cool then he didn't have anything, Jonathan detested a lack of control.

Finally he reached the small group, standing just next to the Joker so that they cornered the group in the hallway effectively. He didn't need to do anything yet; part of fear was the anticipation of pain and torture, so he just stood there and smiled back at the grinning clown. Without warning he turned back to the group and spoke.

"No, not a ghost Joker, a _Scarecrow_!" he lunged forward and flicked his wrist, shooting a stream of odorless, tasteless chemicals straight into the center of the women.

They screamed loudly and shoved away from one another, pushing one another to the ground in their haste to get away from the chemical cloud making its way towards them. They weren't fast enough though, and soon all five of them were coughing and hacking in futile attempts to dislodge the substance from their lungs.

Screams soon filtered into the air, wonderful, intoxicating screams. Agony was one thing, a more gritty emotion, but fear was more than that. It was deeper, more primal than anything else that came out a human being's mouth. It was something that truly gave purpose to their miserable lives.

After five or so minutes of the beautiful symphony, the workers slowly dropped like flies to the floor, their faces contorted in terrified grimaces and silent screams as their eyes lost the glimmer of life. It seemed that the toxin left in his desk was the same kind that he'd used on Rachel Dawes and, in reverse, was used on himself by the Batman. This version was a concentrated form, five times more powerful than his normal compound, and there for was five times more effective and fast acting. This form _always_ had devastating effects. Seemed that these patients heart's just couldn't hold up against when put to the test.

"Are you ready to move on Joker?" he asked, straightening his cuffs and jumpsuit front as if it was one of his finest suits.

"Well of course, uh, Crow!" he replied, throwing a sideways glance at the Scarecrow as he stooped down to examine his handy work. "Are you _done_ yet?"

"Oh no, quite the contrary..." He smiled fondly and started to walk. "I'm just getting started."


	6. Fear and Loathing Part II

**Part Two of Three, by the way. I'll be getting to the real world (aka Gotham City) in the next chapter. I thought it best if I divided it up like this, give it some room to breath if you know what I mean. Oh well, I still like this one. For those of you waiting patiently for the slash, it is getting ready to get with it. This chapter is a bit of discovery, but not full out yet so hand on. Thank you! **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

The dysfunctional duo made their way through the underbelly of Arkham Asylum quickly, taking out any threats that stood in their way. Nurses, orderlies, and doctors alike either fell to the Joker's maniacal ways or to Scarecrow's fear toxin. Neither end was lacking in terrified screams or a bloody end. Either the patients, Scarecrow liked the term Jonathan had assigned them, were carved up like Thanksgiving turkeys courtesy of the Joker, or they tore themselves apart because of the horrible hallucinations they were experiencing. It didn't matter either because the ending product was always the same: fear, death, and _complete_ chaos.

Neither party would have it any other way.

The Joker enjoyed a more hands on approach, Jonathan and Scarecrow reflected, opting for more crude forms of torture and death than his own cleaner one. He also liked to play with his kill before completely finishing them off and, even after they were dead, he often continued his games. Some of the bodies went into fun poses; others were dismembered with their parts strewn across the hallway in odd patterns: all of them were horribly mutilated.

On the other hand, Scarecrow went after the play things, Joker had used that terms and Scarecrow had liked it, with a more subtle but equally terrifying approach. Earlier in the evening they'd both stopped to remove their bright orange jumpsuits, opting to change into some of the stolen clothing they'd gotten from some deceased patients. When they'd come upon a group they would pretend to be terribly injured, (Joker had covered them both in guts and blood when he'd felt particularly spry and Scarecrow had painted up their faces eagerly) and fake bleeding to death. When they would approach to see what had happened, Scarecrow would pounce, gassing them mercilessly until they lay deceased before him. The screams were so loud…

Between the two of them, Joker and Scarecrow made quite the team. Together they spread fear and chaos all across the dank and dismal building, leaving no cell unturned or person unaffected. It had only taken them less than two hours to make it from one end of the building to the other, releasing patients and killing off staff. At the rate they were going it was a surprise that all of Gotham City's finest weren't on the front lawn.

Not that either of them really cared, they were far more preoccupied with the task at hand. Somewhere along the way they'd each started to collect things from their conquests: keys, security cards, glasses, uniforms, and wallets. The pockets on the doctor's coat Scarecrow was wearing, and the orderly's scrubs the Joker was wearing, were stuffed to the brim with junk. It made them oddly happy, almost like a type of memento to remember all their fun.

"What do yah, uh, think Crow? Too much?" asked the Joker, holding up in front of the mirror to examine his newly applied make-up carefully.

"Do you really want my opinion?" countered Scarecrow, not caring about the amount of color applied to the other man's face. "Where'd you find that at?"

Jonathan and Scarecrow weren't sure exactly where he'd found the supplies at, or how he'd managed to get the blood off his face before reapplying his face paint. But now he was standing in the center of the bathroom admiring his new found face once more. It seemed to Jonathan that this make-up was the same that they'd confiscated from the Joker when he was brought in, but where he'd gotten it at was beyond him.

"What, this?" he asked, grinning widely and running a hand through his still green tinted hair. "I found them in one of the, uh, desk drawers back there." He pointed in the direction of the hall of doctor's offices, darkened for the night. "Some guy named Jeremiah Arkham's desk drawer or something."

Joker waved off Scarecrow casually, going back to once more applying his make-up sloppily in the mirror. He took one finger and smeared around his eyes with the black, creating dark rings all over his face and smearing it with the white cake base that he'd applied earlier. It ran down the side of his face slightly, mixing in with the red of his lip stick to form a dingy burgundy color. This only proved to make his teeth look more yellow then they actually were, casting a funky tinged color to appear on his teeth.

The make-up made him look…primal.

Scarecrow was oddly intrigued by the whole process and stood enraptured behind him as he continued to fix his face. Every slight motion of the Joker's hands, every smear and smudge he put on his face enthralled him to no end, making him want to know more about the strange man who stood before him. He knew from Jonathan's diagnosis that the man was a chronic liar as well as narcissist, but that only made his appeal that much stronger to him. In a way they were oddly alike, the two of them: both craving for something outside of the norm of human society. They each made their own way in the world, fighting for something other than what society had given them.

Scarecrow continued to watch, missing the little glances thrown in his direction by the Joker as he continued to methodically reapply his face. The way the man's large, callused fingers moved over his deep scars was somehow very enthralling for him.

"Is there, uh, something on my face Crow?" asked the Joker, pausing in his routine to turn and talk to Scarecrow. "Yah see pretty darn interested in what I'm doing here… I'm just asking."

"No, I'm just watching you Joker." Said the Scarecrow, the spell seemingly broken momentarily. "This is so…fascinating."

"I don't understand." Said the Joker, acting stunned. "What's so fasc-in-ating about my face?"

"Not your face Joker, your _face_!" The meaning made sense to only the Scarecrow, leaving Joker out in the cold. "I don't think I've ever seen something quite so interesting, and I've seen quite a bit."

"Have yah now?" Joker cocked on hidden eyebrow in amusement, but didn't respond to the statements. "I'm taking that as a compliment so, uh, glad yah like it."

He slid down the wall to sit next to the crouching Scarecrow who was now starring off into the space directly in front of him. His eyes went momentarily blank, telling Joker that he was off somewhere outside of this confinement. What he would give to be able to do that, to have someone to talk to like Jonathan did. Alas he did not.

The speck on the wall must have been _pretty _interesting from him to stare at it _that_ hard. Joker smiled at the prospect of his companion randomly zoning out, tossing it up to the medication the silly little doctors in this hospital had the two on. He wouldn't ever know the feelings for himself though because he never _actually_ took the pills they gave him.

Medication just wasn't his thing.

Instead he would put them under his tongue and pretend to swallow, making it look as if he'd taken them. When the orderlies turned their heads away or left him alone he'd make a bee-line for the sink or toilet and dispose of the offending thing as quick as he could. The taste was enough to make him gag, but the alternative was to depressing and sad to ever experience again. He'd done it once and that was more than plenty for him.

"Your face is like mine, only part of it is permanent." Replied Crane, not seeming to hear what the Joker had said earlier. "I didn't understand why Jonathan found them so fascinating, but I'm beginning to understand it."

He turned around to face him, leaning forward to rest on the Joker's legs as he starred deeply into the clown's dark eyes. Slowly a tender hand made its way up to the Joker's face, gently touching and caressing the scars that ran deep into his cheeks with knowing and steady hands. He seemed almost child like in that state, the Joker reflected, with his wide eyes and probing digits. Crow's blue eyes were wide with fascination and wonder at learning something new, something as fascinating as him. .

It made the Joker happy.

"Find something, uh, yah like Crow?" He said, stopping the roaming hands with his own.

Scarecrow cocked his head slightly, almost like an over grown bird, but remained intently silent as the Joker spoke to him.

"Normally I don't let people touch my, uh, face." The high pitched giggled resumed here, along with the Joker moving his deft fingers back to his face. "But for yah, I'm willing to make an excep-tion!"

Longer fingers guided Scarecrow's hands over jagged flesh, placing them at the top of his cheeks and running them slowly down the patterns carved there so long ago. The Joker couldn't honestly remember how he'd gotten said attributes, all he had to remember the mystical encounter was the remnants of someone's shoddy workmanship. But now it felt good to have someone run slightly trembling finger tips over them though, the resulting tingling sensation deep with in his facial muscles. It was almost like a demented facial massage for him.

The Joker watched Scarecrow carefully as the smaller man ran his hands both sides of his cheeks now, smearing the red and white paint together with his fingers. The texture created between the friction of his hands and the face paint left the Joker feeling like he'd been missing out on this, someone petting his face and all. He felt…restless.

Scarecrow, on the other hand, felt almost giddy.

No words could explain the mixed emotions he was experiencing, no matter how hard he tried to come up with some. Happiness? No, that only came when the sounds of screams and terror reached his ears. Excitement? No, that was before the thrill of the hunt. Bliss? Well, that could be part of it Scarecrow assumed, but not the entirety of it. What then could these feelings be?

_Longing, the feeling you and I are experiencing is longing. _Jonathan supplied a note of something hidden in his voice, something the Scarecrow couldn't quite place. _But there's another emotion here too, one I don't know the name of. This is highly irregular. _

_Oh stuff it Jonathan, you don't know what you're talking about. _Scarecrow snarled mentally, not speaking out loud so that he didn't ruin the mood between him and the Joker. _I'm not _longing_ for anything, least of all the Joker! _

_Say what you will Scarecrow, but I know what we're experiencing. I wasn't some two bit psychologist before this. I actually had a purpose in life. _

_Sure you did Jonathan. Just keep telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night and I'll keep on taking care of our body! _He shoved Jonathan as far away from him as he could, trying to lock him up behind an incredible mental barrier. _This is just getting interesting. _

The Joker watched like a hawk as Jonathan, Scarecrow, whoever he was, continued to stroke his face gently. He couldn't seem to keep them straight at the moment, flashes of each personality shifting back and forth across the blue eyes in the men's head. It was giving him a headache just thinking about it, so he stopped and decided to watch the smaller man instead. Emotions were welling up inside of him, things he didn't know the names of, and it only served to confuse him even more.

"Did you know that the scar tissue here is only a few years old? See that pinkish tissue, the one before you repainted yourself, there in the corner of your mouth?" he touched the area in question lightly. "It is still showing signs of a growing keloid, proving that these can't be anymore than seven, eight years old at the max."

"What?" Joker asked, clearly not expecting that from the doctor. It was Jonathan now it seemed. "Did yah decide to say that for some, uh, _reason_ Crane or were yah just trying to spoil the mood?"

"I was speculating Joker, about you." He continued to fondle the over sized scar tissue gently, kneading it between his thumb and forefingers. "About these… Do you remember how you got them?"

Joker laughed, but it wasn't the normal laugh that he had. This one was more controlled, more_ sincere_ Jonathan thought. It made him want to listen to what he had to say even more than he already did. The clown started slowly, glancing everywhere but at Jonathan while he spoke.

"Well, uh, there was this boy you see." The Joker started, talking with his hands out stretched for emphasis. "Cute little thing, a little shorter than yah, with be-a-utiful blonde hair and deep green eyes. We'd been friends for a long time, longer than I could remember, and we were living together."

He rung his hands lightly but continued to smile.

"And one day, one day we went out to the, uh, local market to get some stuff. He liked organic, all natural food yah see, crazy about the stuff he was, and once a week we'd travel to the farmer's market for fresh food. We'll, on our way back; we were cornered by the –uh- local _thugs_. Said they liked the way we looked, we looked like _girlies_ to them…"

He traveled off slightly, leaving Jonathan hanging on his every word. He hadn't even realized he was so enthralled in his story until the man stopped without warning. Jonathan and Scarecrow waited patiently for the Joker to continued, and when he didn't they both grew impatient.

"And?" he said, smoothing the Joker's shirt out lightly from his spot still in front of the Joker. "You just stopped in the middle of the story."

"Oh… Well we fought back, who wouldn't yah know, but it wasn't enough I guess. They got us both. Let's, uh, just say that I got the better end of the deal." He smiled widely and pointed to his face with grubby hands. "Now I'm always smiling!"

Jonathan felt a twinge of what he thought was pity, but he couldn't be sure. That emotion, along with any other feelings he and the Scarecrow deemed "weak" were carefully locked away in the deepest, darkest places of their shared mind. He didn't have the emotion to compare this to, but based on other's displays he determined that it had to be pity.

Jonathan didn't like it.

_He's lying Jonathan… Don't trust him. _Whispered Scarecrow lightly. _He probably doesn't know how he got his scars! _

He dropped his hands away from the Joker's face in disgust, not of the man before him, but for himself. He could not believe that he, the Master of Fear, had been groping and touching the most intimate parts of the Joker's face. He didn't like to be touched, so why the Hell was he touching him? He moved back swiftly, following his fingers and hands.

"I believe that you are lying to me Joker, and I don't particularly appreciate it." He sneered, frowning deeply as he rested his head back on his shoulders and against the wall. "I've been straight with you; the least you could do was have the same courtesy for me."

"But I haven't asked yah anything yet!" the Joker laughed and slapped Crane's shoulder lightly, giggling harder when he flinched. "The interesting parts have yet to, uh, come!"

"What do you mean?" asked Jonathan warily, turning back to look at the laughing man to his left. "What 'good' parts?"

"Oh, you'll just have to see won't yah Jonny Boy?"

Joker got up quickly, brushed off his borrowed uniform, and made for the door before Jonathan had a chance to question him further. The man laughed as he walked through the twin corridors that made up the entrance of the bathroom, not even bothering to look back at the bewildered doctor as he spoke.

"Best hurry up there Jonny Boy! Don't want to be late do yah?"


	7. Fear and Loathing Part III

**As promised, if not a bit later than expected, here is part Three of the break out of Arkham! This one was difficult for me to write for some reason, so I'm happy you all remained patient. Thanks for putting up with my lack of ability to write. **** Reviews are always welcomed and I'm excited to see more faves in my inbox when I log on in the morning. *bows* I am so honored that you all are reading my work. **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

Jonathan spent the next fifteen minutes playing catch-up with the Joker as he rapidly trailed him down the long hallway. The clown seemed so carefree as he waltzed onwards, but Jonathan remained tense and expectant of the attack that never seemed to come. The place was eerily silent, something that he'd learned to never trust or under estimate, a sign that danger could be lurking right around the corner.

His body stayed rigid as he tried to keep up, his shoulders taunt and immobile with his hands clasped tightly at his sides. They were so hard clasped in fact, that he was digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The only reason he knew this was that he could already feel the start of a steady trickle making its way down the insides of his fingers. He hadn't felt the pain: that was probably not a good sign, so he didn't know that he'd even done it until the warmth traveled down his long fingers.

Jonathan sighed loudly in the enclosed hallway, almost jogging now to keep up with the clown in front of him. His body begged him to speak out, to let the Joker know that he needed to slow down for him, but his mind would never allow such things. Dr. Crane's resolve was all that he had left now in this place, they'd already stripped him of his job and title, he'd never allow _anyone_ to take his dignity and pride.

_Suck it up Jonathan: we don't need him to slow down so that we can keep up! _Hounded Scarecrow, a cross tone evident in his voice. _Don't you dare say anything to that clown, we really don't need him to think of us as weak or a burden. _

_You think I don't know that Scarecrow? _Responded a highly miffed doctor. _Why would I ever ask for anything from that man, let alone something that would compromise us in such a way? No wonder I'm the more sensible one around here…_

_That depends on what you're calling "sensible" now Jonathan. If we're talking about real brains then I'll be forced to point out the fact that you are still within said man's company and you haven't tried to run off on your own yet. _Scarecrow mentally smiled within Jonathan's already racing mind. _That isn't what I'd call sensible, but if you insist it is then I won't argue…_

Jonathan knew that the Scarecrow had him there.

No matter what way he put it, his other was completely correct. If he really was the sensible one then he'd have run off long ago, opting to escape when the Joker had originally offered it instead of wandering around the halls for a bit of fun. On the other hand, if he had just up and left the Joker may have taken offense and would give chase. Jonathan and Scarecrow both knew what would happen in that sort of situation.

Either way the two looked at things, the situation seemed to just keep getting worse and worse for them. With no end in sight, it looked like they were trapped on the roller coaster from hell that they had willingly gotten on.

"Come on Crow! You're fallin' behind again! Try to, uh, keep up would yah?" Shouted the Joker back over his shoulder. "Don't want the _boogey man_ to get yah before we can do the job we, uh, came to do!"

"No we don't…"

Jonathan knew exactly who the Joker was talking about.

In his odd way, the Joker was making a wise crack at his encounter with the Batman, the one resulting in his current state of being. His mind still hadn't recovered full from the whole thing, and every once in a while he'd see things that he knew weren't there. But how the Joker knew about all of that was beyond him. In fact, the only place any of this was documented was in his files in Dr. Thurman's office…

Jonathan stopped abruptly, not caring if he lost the Joker this time or not. As he stood there his brain started to connect the pieces of the larger puzzle that was this evening and the nights previous to this one. All of the subtle clues he'd left for him slowly slipped into place. Something hit him that he thought was going to break him into pieces, something terrible and personal.

The Joker had gone through his medical files.

He didn't know how he'd gotten into the filing cabinets: or the office for that matter, but he did know that somehow he'd seen the notes. All the ones that Dr. Arkham had made about his current psychosis and trauma: the ones about his obsessive behavior, about his _life_. He also wondered what else he'd seen.

_There's all of our history in those files, not to mention our medical charts and regimen of drugs and therapy discussion note. _Seethed Scarecrow, irritated and furious.

_You don't have to tell me that Scarecrow! I was a doctor here after all! Those are confidential, doctor patient privilege notes and that damned clown just shattered the very center of the Hippocratic Oath! _

_Like you really followed that Jonathan… _cracked Scarecrow, his frustration showing through in cynical humor. _He probably knows about Great Granny Keeny too Jonathan, we need to know what he knows. _

_Yes we do…_

Jonathan frowned deeply at the Joker's back, teeth grinding together and his fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to desperately keep control of himself. Self control was something he prided himself in, even on the inside of Arkham, and tried to keep it in tact as long as he possibly could. Technically it was the only thing separating them from the rest of the primates.

"Joker" he said loudly, enough so that the clown could hear him. "How long have you been going through my files?"

The question was direct: no use in skipping around the topic at hand, and it stopped the Joker dead in his tracks.

"So yah, uh, figured it our already huh?" He asked, giving what Jonathan assumed was a nervous laugh. "I thought it might take yah longer, guess not huh?"

"That would seem the case Joker." Crane frowned and crossed his arms, his posture screaming furious to anyone who was willing to pick up on it. "How long Joker?"

"A week and two days Jonny Boy." Said the Joker, sobering instantly. "I was fixing what those nancy doctors missed. That whole psychology thing is, uh, pretty dang easy if yah ask me. No wonder yah chose that field!"

Joker grinned widely as he licked his lips, a happy gleam forming in his feral eyes. His fingers were still twiddling with the front of his clothing, wringing together in a mad dance. His behavior was not unlike that of the Scarecrow's sometimes, Jonathan begrudgingly admitted to himself. The whole display did nothing more than tick him off even further.

"I received my doctorate in Advanced Psychology Joker, not an easy task. I dual minored in both chemistry and psychopharmacology, giving me access to a much broader work field." Clarified Jonathan as he removed the stifling mask from his head, adjusting his glasses in the process. "And it isn't as easy as I'm sure you found it."

"Oh, on the, uh, contrary Jonny Boy. Psychology is an ac-adem-ic and applied discipline involving the scientific study of human mental functions and behavior. Occasionally, in addi-tio-n or opposition to employing the scientific method, it also relies on symbolic interpretation and critical analysis of things, although these trends are less notable than they are in sociology. Psychologists study such phenomena as perception, cognition, emotion, personality, behavior and interpersonal relationships, which yah seem to be lacking in Jonny. Some, especially depth psychologists like yourself, also study the unconscious mind and its effects on the human as a whole." The Joker recited effortlessly. "I know _exactly_ how the whole thing works, or at least according to Pierre Cabanis' essay _Rapports du physique et du moral de l'homme _and a few others_._"

Jonathan stood amazed, not only at the sheer amount of knowledge that the Joker seemed to have stored about psychology and its study, but that he could _relate all of it _on a given whim. He wondered just how long the Joker had spent trying to memorize such knowledge, knowing that it took him the course of several years to master those basic principles. Maybe he'd attended Gotham University with him at some time; the man seemed no older than mid to late twenties, perhaps a Graduate when he was finishing his undergraduate?

Now, more than ever, Jonathan wondered just who the Joker really was and what he was capable of.

His face must have shown just how much surprise he was feeling because the Joker tilted his head down and smiled at him before launching off into a rather loud session of laughter. The laugh was enough to drive anyone to insanity, let alone someone who was already swirling deeper and deeper into the pit the longer they stood near one another. Jonathan was sure that they were practically feeding one another's madness.

"How do you know all of that subject matter Joker?" he asked, voice still slightly breathy in amazement.

"I, uh, went to psych school before switching my ma-**jor** to biochemical engineering." He calmed down a minute, his eyes holding a certain amount of truth to them. "Just wasn't my dealio it seemed."

Jonathan and Scarecrow both immediately picture Joker as a psycho analyst, complete with the lab coat and all. He'd seen the man's cross dressing tendencies, but nothing prepared him for what was about to pop up into his mind's eye. The mental images made him want to cringe, shudder, laugh, and cry all at the same time. It was a very odd feeling for him, this jumble of feelings raping his mind. He most certainly didn't like it.

"The mere thought of you as a psychologist makes me lose that much more faith in the society we live in, Joker, and that's saying something." Jonathan frowned deeper and rand another hand through his mope head of hair. "For you see, I lost faith in them a long time ago."

Joker walked over and slapped him on the back hard, giggling and smiling as he did so.

"I think I've said it before Crow, but I really like yah! What a wonderful sense of, um, humor you have there!" Joker slung his arm over his shoulders and started to walk down the hall, dragging Jonathan with him. "Now, we've got some fun things to do and some docs to see!"

Jonathan tensed and started to struggle vainly in attempts to get away from the unwanted touch of the clown, but it didn't matter. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the damned man off of him. His grip was iron tight around his shoulders and with every wiggle he only served to move the man's arm upwards until he was clutching him by nothing but his shaggy hair.

And it was painful.

The Joker seemed to only grip tighter and tighter into his hair the more he struggled, hair and scalp alike being forcibly pulled ways they weren't meant to go. Skin burned from the rough contact, making Jonathan protest even louder and harder than ever before.

"Let me go Joker, you're hurting me!" he cried loudly, twisting every way he could in his vain attempts to get the hands off of his person. "Release me this instant!"

The Joker sighed heavily but did as he was asked, letting his hands loosen enough so that Crane could pull back to a safe distance. Jonathan shot back like a rocket, away from the Joker and away from the offending touch of his filthy hands. He knew his hair was getting long again and that it was a potential handle for others in the asylum, but he had refused to get it cut by the scum that worked at Arkham. No, he said, no one would touch him if he had any say in it.

"Don't be so fussy Jonny, I was only having a, uh, bit of _fun_ with yah!" The Joker said sulkily.

"If you want to have 'fun' with me, then I suggest we find Dr. Cavendish and Dr. Thurman before I decide to have fun with you instead." Jonathan glared at the Joker, meaning every word he said. "Do not forget the situation at hand here and lose your head by accident."

The Joker just stood there, smirking slightly at Jonathan's attempts at threatening him. Dr. Crane was just a bundle of joy to be around today, what with breaking out and getting himself back out of that old dusty drawer, and Joker wanted to have a bit of fun. He didn't know if the famed fear toxin would work on him or not and he wasn't really appt to take his chances and find out. No, Joker decided that he'd stick to his original plan of escaping with a new, formidable friend in tow.

He was about to say something funny in retaliation to Jonny's threats when he heard talking coming from down the hall, accompanied by two identical sets of footsteps and voices. Joker looked over Jonathan's shoulder in time to see what was about to go down.

"Speak of the Devil Crow, here come the Docs now!" He clasped his hands together happily. "_Where_ would yah like me?"

Jonathan smiled coldly as he adjusted his glasses, palming the mask lovingly but not putting it on right away.

"You can remain where you are for now Joker, but if they try to back up feel free to keep them in their spots." He was giving the two men death sentences, he knew this. "But don't kill them until _after_ we've had our fun."

"Righty tighty Doc!" Joker saluted Crane lazily. "That's a big ten four buddy!"

Jonathan shook his head but kept his cool demeanor. The two were still in the doctor's attire, white coats and bloody lapels sticking out in contrast with the bleak hallway, so they weren't as obvious as they would have been in their brilliant orange jumpsuits. Any second now the two administrators would realize just who stood down the hall from them and start to panic, but by the time they got close enough to actually tell it would be too late. Joker would swoop in from behind and Crane would stay in front, effectively circling them.

Things were finally going Jonathan's way.

"…and Abraham didn't answer on his walkie-talkie?"

"No, he and the rest of his team hasn't responded to the page that I sent them over an hour ago either. Something fishy is going on around here Dr. Cavendish and I think we need to figure out what is going on around here."

"Oh Dr. Thurman, there's no need to be so uptight about this. The power has been failing all over the building and I'm sure that faulty wiring is to blame, not anyone or anything else." Dr. Cavendish said, waving the nervous companion off easily. "If you're so worried about it we can go and check on them before our shift is over. Would that help your nerves?"

"Yes, yes it would."

Jonathan was oddly ashamed and proud of Dr. Thurman and his over analytical views of Arkham. He was both nervous, being afraid of the dark among many other things: and oddly brilliant all at the same time. Maybe that was why he'd hired him. Jonathan took a good look at the shifty eyed doctor before him, sweating and wringing his hands nervously out in front of him, and frowned once more. Maybe that's why he was going to do him in now though too…

"Dr. Cavendish, do you hear something?" asked Dr. Thurman nervously, eyes shifting around the hallway carefully.

The pair stopped walking quickly, their foot fall echoing off the barren walls loudly. They both strained to hear the something that Thurman had heard, holding their breaths so that they were completely silent as they stood there.

"I don't hear anything David, bunch of none sense this is!" said Cavendish brazenly, puffing out his large chest.

"That's what I'm afraid of…"

Scarecrow knew that this was the moment that they'd been waiting for all night and sprung from his position carefully, groaning from his slumped over position on the floor in the shadow of the hallway lights. He drug himself into the direct light almost agonizingly slow, pulling his body weight along with one hand and clasping his "injured side" with the other.

"Help…help me, please." He said desperately, keeping his head down so that they didn't recognize him immediately. "They, they came so quickly… I don't know what happened."

"Oh my God! Dr. Cavendish, call for help!" Screeched Dr. Thurman loudly as he lurched forward to help his fallen comrade. "This man's been injured, call the guards!"

The two men reached down to scoop up Jonathan up between them, cradling him gently as they began to search for his wounds in order to stem the bleeding. After checking all of his coats and clothes without luck, they pulled back to find that the man held in between them was standing up right on his own and gripping their shoulders tightly, almost to the point of being painful. Crane let go of Cavendish, deciding to focus on his lesser replacement first and then for the annoying administrator later.

"Gentlemen, let me be the first to welcome you to the restricted wing of Arkham Asylum" he flourished his arms widely, gesturing with one and gripping tightly with the other. "Now then Dr. Thurman, when I hired you what was the first rule that I gave you?" asked Jonathan darkly, a smile plastered across his wild face.

"Don't… Don't go into the restricted wing without guards, don't go without signing an in log, and don't go during power failures." Stammered the now quaking man.

"That's right Dr. Thurman." He patted the other man on the shoulder lightly, pressing just hard enough to keep him rooted to the spot. "And did you listen to those rules?"

"N-no Dr. Crane…"

"Well then, you understand the measures that need to be taken then yes?" He grinned wider if it was possible, the sickly light illuminating his teeth so that they look ravenous in the dark shadows. "Have to teach you some way don't we?"

The smell of fear rolled off of the smaller man in waves, exciting Crane and Scarecrow to the point of near Euphoria. It had been far, far too long since they'd been able to indulge like this. David Thurman was the proper candidate to for their pent up frustrations, his nerves and anxiety enough to quell the insatiable hole that had formed in Scarecrow and his gut.

As they were enjoying their new found pleasure, a rather rude voice decided to interrupt and break what little focus the cowering man before him had. Dr. Cavendish, the fat little pompous man who thought that he could take over Jonathan's position without consequence, decided that he was going to speak up and ruin their little moment. Jonathan had never met his replacement in person before, always having to study him from afar because the man never once bothered to come down and see the former head of Arkham himself, and so he wanted to take his time in breaking the man responsible for his upheaval.

"Excuse me, what the Hell is going on around here?" he said indignantly. "Just _who_ do you think you are, impersonating a doctor of this establishment? David, what is going on here?"

"Silence your mouth fool! You're in the presence of greatness and should know your place!" hollered Jonathan and Scarecrow in unison, their patients limited and over drawn. "Had you bothered with your administrative duties Dr. Cavendish, then you would very well know who I am. As it were, Dr. Thurman here knows who he's dealing with and therefore isn't bothering with the pointless struggle which you yourself are holding onto. A vain struggle, might I add."

"What are you going on about you loony?" Roared the confused and irritated man before him, gripping the doctor's coat tightly as he made his feeble demands. "I demand to know _who_ you are and _what_ you want right this instant!"

"Dr. Thurman, why don't you tell him who I am?" Jonathan suggested lightly, the smile patronizing and demanding. "I'm sure you could explain things far better than I can because it seems my patients and control is dwindling quickly."

"Well David, what is going on around here? Who is this man?"

"This…This is Dr. Jonathan Crane." The man said, his eyes glazing over slightly at the memories. "He's the former head of Arkham Asylum and current inmate of the restricted wing, more prominently known as the 'Scarecrow' by many."

Dr. Cavendish's eyes went wide, his hands letting go of Crane's jacket as they fell to his sides in surprise and horror. The action reminded Scarecrow of someone who's hands had just been burnt, but he kept the commentary to himself and let his alter work his magic. Jonathan's smile turned from patronizing to amused, the look on the man's face enough to make him laugh out in the open.

"You…" the man tripped over his words, at a loss for a defense against what he knew was to come. "How did you get out?"

"That would, uh, be _me_ doc." Said a dark voice from behind the group, a figure walking out from amongst the shadows slowly, and each step deliberate. "Jonny Boy here de-sided that he and little Mr. Straw-For-Brains wanted to get out and have a bit of, uh, _fun_ for once..."

Jonathan observed the Joker carefully, watching his every moved and listening intently to his every word, hanging onto each syllable as if it was the only thing keeping his from going completely off the deep end.

This couldn't be any closer to the truth.

"My God..." whispered Dr. Cavendish in a high voice, all traces of rational gone from his haughty tone.

"That's not, uh, nice to blaspheme _doc_..." drawled out the Joker darkly. "Thought yah would know better than that, being a doctor and all..."

The Joker's large hand clamped down on the now quivering man in front of him so that he couldn't back up any further from Jonathan's wrath. He didn't do anything more than help out a bit, this fight being for the Scarecrow alone. Any help, and he used the term loosely and figuratively, would only come in the form of keeping the pair situated where Jonny could get at them. Right now though, he wanted to watch the Scarecrow work.

"Anyways gentlemen, back to what I was saying beforehand about listening to my advice..." Jonathan removed his glasses, a tell tale sign that his alter ego was coming out to play, and slid them in the front pocket of the coat for safe keeping. "You should _never_ travel alone."

He let go of Thurman reluctantly for a few moments so that he could roll up the doctor's coat sleeve and tap his wrist lightly, almost as if he was looking at a watch. Scarecrow figured that maybe that's what Thurman thought it was, that's why he'd leant in further. In one swift movement he slid on the mask he had held in his opposite hand and shoved Thurman against the nearby wall, pinning him with an arm lengthwise across his throat.

This was about to get _so_ interesting.

"So David, any last words before you're so far gone from this miserable world that you won't know your head from your hands?" Scarecrow snarled nastily, happy to finally be released once more and content to let Jonathan control what happened slightly. "Come now, don't be shy."

The man couldn't even stutter out a last request before Scarecrow grew impatient and let him have a lung full of fear toxin right to the face. The man sputtered and coughed hard, trying to dislodge the offending substance from his throat as he breathed. He had no such luck and thankfully, do to Jonathan's secret compartment in their old desk; these effects would be permanent and hopefully fatal.

It didn't take long for the hallucinations to kick in, ten to fifteen seconds at tops. He screamed and clawed desperately at Jonathan's jacket and clothes, trying to get away from whatever it was he was currently seeing. It was no use because Scarecrow wasn't about to let go.

"It's all the same, they scream and they cry in terror before the one called 'Scarecrow'!" He thundered, making the already quaking man shudder even more. "The fear Doctor, can you smell it?"

That's when the screaming started.

Jonathan and Scarecrow listened as the man cried and screamed through his final moments, gasping and shuddering as he tried to draw in air through spastic lungs. This went on for another good ten minutes before Scarecrow and Jonathan both heard the last sound that the man would ever make, the infamous Death Rattle.

Disgusted and oddly stated, Scarecrow let the body slump down the wall and turned to regard the new and final challenger in the hallway with them. Dr. Cavendish was caught by the collar, apparently trying to back up as far as possible from Jonathan and himself but also trying to keep his distance from the Joker. It looked like he was trying to hang himself by his over coat.

"Dr. Cavendish, you don't look so good. Are you feeling alright?" laughed Scarecrow, sauntering towards the man with a malicious gleam in his eyes. "Here, I have some medication here that will help you feel _much_ better."

Cavendish screamed loudly, wriggling and writhing in his desperate escape attempts, but Joker held him tightly by the back of his coat. The clown was grinning widely, not even trying to hide his enjoyment of the situation as he remained uncharacteristically silent through the entire show.

The second session went much like the first, with the exception of the pudgy doctor's final breath. Jonathan had always compared different death sounds, growls or rattles it didn't matter to him, to those of his other patients. He found that no two of them ever sounded alike, and just as finger prints were unique to each individual, so where the finals sounds. Scarecrow made a mental note to file away these fond memories so that they could go back and enjoy them fully later. Jonathan complied without hesitation, dictating whatever the straw man said.

When both parts were fully stated, they pulled away from the body and began to tuck down rumpled clothing and stray hair from their shared face. Jonathan liked to be all neat and tidy, so Scarecrow complied willingly in exchange for the stunts that they often pulled together. On his end he got to run amuck whenever Jonathan felt it was okay to let him out (or if he didn't have a choice). The later was sometimes the occasion, but he tried to remain cool and collected as to keep Jonathan on his side. Seems like his time was about up though, such a pitty...

"Are yah feeling better there Crow? Wouldn't want to rush the master or anything..." the Joker said from his position against the wall. "Yah look like you're having a, uh, swell time there."

"Quite, as it were Joker, and you?" Was the sharp but satisfied reply from Jonathan.

"Right as rain Jonny Boy: nice to have yah back."

* * *

**The psychology text was taken from Wikipedia as well as a few other odd sites, as was the Death Rattle info. (If you want specifics please let me know, I'll be happy to cite them for you.) I looked each up so that I could be as accurate as I could. I am going into Psychology in college, so the whole field is interesting to me. I can't wait to get started! **

**All of Jonathan's background was taken strictly from the comics and story lines. I enjoy making up J-man's background, but I like Jonny's the way it is. **

**Joker seemed like the kind of person that can do the sort of memorizing it takes for the field he chose, as well as what he does now. Thank you Lauralot for the idea that he is a memorizing machine. XD He's an information bank! **


	8. We're Off To See The Wizard

**This is a bit short, but I wanted to get all of you patient ones out there something to read while I take a break for a bit and write my research paper as well as my Political Science papers... I really hate that sort of writing. Any who, thanks to everyone who's faved and commented on this story. It means so much to me! **

**Oh, all city street names are taken from the Chicago street name data-bank. This version of Gotham was filmed and is based on Chicago, so that is the layout I stick too. Thank you for all of your help in references and material! **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

After Jonathan, Scarecrow, and the Joker's little "bonding" time, the trio made a hasty retreat from Arkham Asylum. From where they were it wasn't more than a hop and a jump to the side exit that would lead them to their freedom. They decided that they'd sneak out the side exit instead of going out through the front door, just in case someone had decided to pull a quick one on them.

No sense getting the wool pulled over their eyes just yet.

The door was thankfully an entrance that hardly anyone used at this time of night, being just after dark when all of the slime of Gotham came out to play, so no one was around to witness two doctors covered head to toe in gore emerge from the now darkened building. Together they snuck off into the dark, white jackets trailing after them in the breeze as they moved swiftly off into the darkened shadows of the Narrows.

The duo shot out of the building and into the dark as quickly and as quietly as they could, not stopping anywhere along the line on the slight chance that they could be noticed or recognized. Thankfully they weren't spotted, but the two men didn't want to take any unnecessary risks.

The dark night air felt damp and humid against Jonathan's face as it pressed in on him from all sides. The thin, narrow alley ways that made up the Narrows (hence the name) had a tendency to do that he had noted some time before on a previous venture into said streets. This area of town was less upstanding than its sister parts, but anyone would had ever had the displeasure of encountering it would tell you that out of all the places and rat holes in Gotham, that this one was the most notable, if not memorable.

And no one ever said that those memories were fond…

This area of Gotham was where all of the seedy, two bit business took place, where the under belly of the city could come crawling out and drag the scum of the earth with it. Here was where the prostitutes worked, the drugs dealers met and dealt, where the black market got its first standing roots in this city, but most importantly, where the gangs put up shop. This was, to Crane's utter disgust and unsatisfaction, where he called "home" while on the run from the Bat and the GCPD.

Well, this was what little "home" he had actually left.

Before his run-in with the Batman, before he'd ever been contacted by the League of Shadows, he'd lived in a nicely furnished, upscale apartment in a locally restored historical district. This apartment, along with its accompanying complex, allowed him equal access to both Arkahm Asylum and to the spot where the narrows and his place of business met. This was also how he was able to smuggle in the components for his toxin unnoticed and under the direct supervision of the League itself. Arkham had been the ideal spot for both his connections to the late Carmine Falcone and the local drug ring when things went sour.

Until Batman ruined everything that is.

Not that he could ever openly express his strong feelings for the flying rodent, not if he wanted to still be alive in the end. Since his new found traveling companion had an unmistakable fondness for the masked vigilante, Jonathan found his hands tied on the subject matter and content. True, he could continue to mentally dissect the interesting man behind the mask and probably even have an invigorating discussion and him with the Joker, (the man's new found psychiatric abilities fascinated Jonathan to no end it seemed) but he and the Scarecrow both thought it wise not to mention or confront the subject directly. Well, not unless the Joker or someone else equally threatening forced him to.

_And for good reason Jonathan… _whispered Scarecrow lightly as they continued to flee through the streets and alleys. _The Joker seems unpredictable and unstable which makes him extremely dangerous to us. There's no telling where he'll lead us. _

_Indeed, we shouldn't provoke him any more than absolutely necessary, if at all. That goes __**extra**__ for you. _Jonathan replied sharply, making his point absolutely clear to both parties. _Speaking of which, where is he leading us anyways? _

The two men had been drug along behind the Joker for almost fifty minutes now, never once stopping to get his attention. Both Jonathan and Scarecrow where slowly getting tired of the fact that the Joker had yet to let them in on the plan or even stop and explain where it was they were going. Jonathan's patients were wearing extremely thin and grinding on his last nerve as the Scarecrow snorted humorously in the background at his OCD-like behavior. It was a well known fact to him that Jonathan liked to be in control of any situation, no matter his knowledge on the subject or stance in the matter.

He also liked a nice place to sleep, preferably a bed at this point, and running water. Hot water was a precious commodity he found, and not necessary for everyday life. (Although it was rather nice to have.) He did find however, that sleep was something he couldn't live without. Jonathan also realized that neither of them, no matter how inhuman the Joker claimed to be, could go without much deserved and needed rest.

Although, Jonathan would forgo the sleeping arrangements for a nice shower facility right now…

"If I may be so bold Joker as to inquire, where the Hell are we?" Jonathan asked petulantly, a frown plastered on his face. "And where are we going?"

"Somewhere Doc, but yah don't have to, uh, worry your pretty little head about it." Was the only reply the Joker gave.

_That's comforting… _Snapped the Scarecrow nastily, giving Jonathan a shove out of the way as he jumped head long into control once more. _There, that's much better. _

As soon as he had his bearings once more, Scarecrow firmly planted his feet and dug his heels in to the sidewalk, causing the Joker to come to a grinding halt and careen back into the smaller man. When the clown turned around to see what was up, Scarecrow simply smiled and twisted his wrist around until he was the one holding onto the Joker's sleeve instead of the other way around. His grip was light enough to be maneuverable, but tight enough that the Joker couldn't break away without some dual effort on his part. It was a gesture of firm assertiveness, one the Scarecrow was all too familiar with.

"Jonathan asked you a question Joker, and since you have no intention of replying to it I must ask once more. Where are we going?"

The Joker gave the Scarecrow a blank look but kept on smiling none the less, something even Jonathan had to give him credit for.

"I, uh, don't know exactly…" he said, grinning quickly as he kept going. "But I'll know when we get there!"

Scarecrow couldn't resist the urge. He slapped his forehead into his hands roughly, ignoring the rather loud protests of Jonathan's dignity as he did so. This man had been dragging him along for almost an hour now; in the middle of the night, in the Narrows, without so much as a hint as to where they were going only to come and find out that he didn't even actually _know_ where they were, let alone where they were going! The urge to scream was almost overwhelming.

"You don't know where we're going and you've been dragging us around this city for an hour?" he ground out through clenched teeth. "And what, pray tell, did you have in mind for us then?"

"Well, uh, I thought we'd sneak in and 'find' some place to crash!" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Scarecrow stopped and took a large, deep breath so that he didn't try to strangle the clown right there and then. He wasn't known for his patients, but tonight things deemed it necessary to be a tad bit understanding. But _this_ was cutting it pretty damn close.

"Well then, since you certainly don't have any suggestions then perhaps I might make one then?" asked Scarecrow without actually waiting for an answer. "Jonathan and I have a small place on the west side of the Narrows, on Brown and Wabash I believe. If you could navigate us to the nearest main street we'll know where to go from there."

The Joker nodded his head up and down vigorously as he agreed, his stringy hair bouncing lightly as his head moved. He really did look like a dog when he set his mind to it…

"We're, uh, two streets off of the main drag Crow. Go West young pilgrim!"

Scarecrow rolled his eyes and slapped his legs exasperatedly.

"Whatever Clown, just lead the way."

So the Joker and Scarecrow turned and continued on towards the main drag that traveled through the Narrows, leading deep into the heart of the seediest part of the gutters. The streets were filled with garbage, dark figures milled about on the fringes of the pair's vision, and the Joker seemed at total ease with his surroundings. Scarecrow and Jonathan, on the other hand, weren't so at ease with things. They knew better than to let their guard down in this neighborhood, what with the way they looked and all. When you worked in the field that they did, you learned to trust no one and nothing.

As they continued on their way, Scarecrow watched their surroundings with carefully hidden eyes. Every few steps he would survey the area for potential threats and hidden shadows that lurked on the edges of their presence. Right now they looked like two, normal doctors strolling through the bad parts of town. (They hadn't taken off the stolen scrubs from the hospital yet, so they stuck out slightly from the rest of the scenery.) The Joker and Scarecrow were practically _begging_ to get unwanted attention.

"Hey, hey boys… Look what we've got here!"

Speak of the Devil.

Scarecrow and the Joker stopped walking and turned to regard the group of men that had unknowingly surrounded them, one smile and one frown all to greet the group of street slime before them. The men, most likely a new gang who just moved into the Narrows looking for a piece of the action, were all in dark clothing and all had various weapons drawn. The leader, also the one who'd spoken in the first place, stepped forward and paced around in front of Crane and the Joker. Since Scarecrow was behind the Joker as they walked, he was out in front of the pair when they turned around to regard the new threat.

That placed him out on his own in front, a larger than life target.

"Looks like these dudes didn't get the memo boys. Why don't we give it to them, what do yah say?" The kid laughed loudly, whipping out his razor blade and waving it out in front of Crane's face threateningly.

Scarecrow never even flinched, let alone let the snot nosed little punks know what he was thinking. His brain was going into over drive, the survival instinct kicking in as he considered his options. On one hand he could just shoot the entire area up with the left over fear toxin still strapped to his wrist, on the other hand he could sit back and see just what the Joker was capable of. As long as that didn't involve the injuring of his and Jonathan's person of course.

"Well, well now, look what we've got here! Quite the looker aren't yah precious?" taunted the leader, running the cold steel blade down his high cheek bones with one hand and running his free hand up his torso. "Bet you would like some of this, wouldn't yah?"

Jonathan was internally freaking out as the man ran his filthy hands all over their body, stopping in a few inappropriate places and roaming in the inside of his jacket. Scarecrow held his ground firmly though, waiting for the right time to act and desecrate the holy sanctity that was the human mind.

It was such a frail thing after all.

That was when Jonathan and Scarecrow heard something that sent shivers up even their spine. The Joker's dark and twisted laughter started from his spot behind Crane and the leader of the gang, starting low and increasing in volume until it reverberated off every wall in the dark passage. Even in the dark, Scarecrow could tell the glint that was burning fiercely in his eyes. It was one of cold, cruel, unrelenting malice and sheer humor at the entire situation. Whether or not he was laughing at his and Jonathan's plight was beside the point, what mattered now was the look of sheer terror that crossed the man before him's face.

"Don't yah boys know who yah are, uh, dealing with here?" he asked, clutching his sides in mirth and slapping his knees playfully. "You're **so** barking up the wrong tree here!"

Scarecrow remained where he stood, tall and ridged as he watched the look of panic cross the gang leaders face before being replaced by that of one sheer outrage.

"And who the Hell are you?" he asked, voice cracking with the terror that was showing on his face.

"Well now, I'm the, uh, Joker and this here is the Scarecrow!" said the Joker happily, his scars stretching fully across his face. In the light they look worse then they were, almost demonic looking from his place in the shadow cast by the over head street light.

"Th-The Joker? Scarecrow?" He stuttered, clearly surprised at the turn of events. "But they're in Arkham!"

"Well, now we're out, and I've been _itching_ for someone to play with!" The Joker moved forwards, his posture hunched over and ready to spring as he anticipated the next move the petty group members would make. "Why don't yah, uh, come over here so we can get acquainted?"

"Let's get outta here!" shouted a few on the men, darting off into the darkness of the side alleys.

"Yeah man, you're on your own here!" shouted a few more, quickly following after the rest until there was nothing left but fleeting shadows and the sounds of scurrying rats.

In a few minutes no one was left except for the still stunned leader who still hand his hands all over the Scarecrow, the knife hanging limply in one hand at his side. He was starring around the street and side walk at the spots where his men used to stand, but where now no longer there. He didn't seem able to move, something that the Scarecrow had been waiting for since the man hand approached them.

He slipped on his mask quickly.

"You know," he said, grabbing the man by the front of his over sized clothing. "You shouldn't threaten bigger fish then you!"

With one flick of his wrist, Scarecrow sent a shower of powdered toxin into the gang leader's face. The man screamed and flailed about, gasping and crying at whatever it was he was seeing under the toxin's influence. It wasn't long before the man completely stopped breathing and collapsed inwards on the front of Jonathan and Scarecrow, who looked on with obvious disgust.

"What a waste of perfectly good toxin, you weren't even strong enough to last ten minutes!" He said, flinging the body away from his person hurriedly as not to get any spilt body fluids on the front of them. "How…disappointing."

"They usually are there, uh, Crow." Said the Joker, who was now leaning up against the light pole casually and inspecting his dirty finger nails. "This entire city's nothing but a bunch of cockroaches anymore."

"Well then, we're just going to have to fix that aren't we Joker?"

"Indeed we are."


	9. Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Wow, I popped this one out rather quick didn't I? Guess I was just in the mood for writing this after noon. Anywho, thanks for the patience and the eager reviews! **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

Once Scarecrow and the Joker emerged from the sides streets and alley ways of the back Narrows, they found themselves closer to the little apartment than they first had thought. So, with little delay and a slight bounce in either man's steps, they started for the building in question. After only having to travel a few more blocks down and a few over, the pair reached the building that served as a make-shift apartment complex and residential building.

The building itself was only a few stories tall, parts of the top floor looking abandoned and partially collapsed. It stood maybe six floors high at the most, four at the least, with flaking plaster and bricks constructing the majority of the flimsy structure. It looked structurally unsound, something that made it ideal for a hide out. It was easily guarded, didn't draw any unwanted attention from the other shady buildings around it, and best of all, not many people still resided inside.

That was why Jonathan and Scarecrow had liked it.

This was the building that they'd stumbled u0on after the little tazer incident and Rachel Dawes, the one that happened the night he'd released all of his glorious toxin in the air about the city. After he had been electrocuted out of his sensible mind, he had taken to wandering around the streets in search for a place to go when he'd come here. His random stumbling and current state of terror having little to do with his choice in the matter, this place was a proverbial gold mine so to speak! It had also served as a base of operations while on the run from both the GCPD and the Batman. So it would go on serving its purpose.

The entrance to the building was crumbling still, giving the outside a slightly run down appearance. (The feeling of the building now matched the appearance in Jonathan's opinion.) The Joker, who was still following along behind him diligently, remained oddly silent in his spot behind him. The occasional giggle and chuckle here and there weren't uncommon for the man, but his quietness certainly was.

Scarecrow was thrilled to say the least.

Not only were they back in their old stomping grounds, the smell of fear ever pungent on the sweltering air around them, but they were also in clear range of hot water and clean sheets and the Joker wasn't making any kind of debilitating noises! It was silence, blessed silence, and neither Scarecrow nor Jonathan could have asked for more.

Until the moment was ruined when Scarecrow spotted a familiar face, one that he hadn't seen in almost a year. The man in question was slunk down in the shadows by the stair well, slowly making a steady retreat from his and the Joker's advancing forms. Maybe he thought he was being clever?

"Joker, would you excuse me for a moment?" he asked quietly so only the clown could hear him. "I smell a rather large rat."

"Well by all, uh, means then go right ahead Crow!' he said grinning widely and motioning with his hands. "After you?"

"Why thank you."

Jonathan had started to whisper in the back of Scarecrow's mind feverishly as they came up behind the nervous and still pacing man's back. He was talking tales and battle plans, as well as potential torture techniques he'd read about and wanted to test out. The one that involved a spork sounded oddly entertaining to him, no doubt the Joker would love it too, but he didn't have one on hand. Also, the chances of finding one in this dump were next to none anyways.

He was going to kill him either way.

The man they had spotted went by the name of Ronald "Sticks" Yaeger and was a notorious snitch. He hadn't know this at the time when he'd employed the smaller red head to run drugs for him and keep an eye of his affairs while he went out for his less than ideal jobs. He really hadn't wanted to deal with scum like him or the mob, but after his little run in with the Bat and the loss of Ras Al Ghul, his hands had practically been tied until he found enough funding to continue his research. The drug business was just as good as any to him at the time.

When he'd first met Ronald Yaeger, he hadn't been particularly impressed by the supposed skills of the man before him. He was supposed to be an excellent book keeper as well as look out, something always in high demand in the line of work Crane was now in, so he had went ahead and hired him on faith. That had been the biggest mistake of his life.

The next thing he knew, Jonathan was speeding out of a parking garage in his white van as the bat hung onto the side for dear life. The metal on the side has been cut open by him and just as Jonathan thought all had been lost, Scarecrow had taken over and clipped the wall hard enough to knock the pest from the side of the vehicle. But that hadn't been the last of him, oh no, the winged creature had crushed the top of the van from several stories up and made him lose consciousness long enough to be restrained and captured. He'd then spent the next thirty minutes next to several bleeding bat imposters, the only reconciliation being the scathing remark he had hurled Batman's way as he left.

Oh no, this little pip squeak was in for one rude awakening when Scarecrow got his long fingers on him. The twitchy, stuttering man was in for the ride of his life now and the Scarecrow and Jonathan were the drivers.

_He's going to Hell and we're driving the bus… _said Jonathan almost humorously from the back of his mind. _I read that somewhere once. _

Scarecrow grinned at the ex-doctor's attempt at humor, knowing full well what the original saying had been intended for. But that was okay because sometimes it was the thought that counted, and when dealing with Jonathan that was _always_ the case.

"Oh Ronald, what a sight for sore eyes you are!' he exclaimed, grabbing the man by the shoulders sharply and spinning him around quickly to face him. "You didn't think you could get away from me that easily, did you?"

His voice was dripping with false sweetness and venom, an odd combination to hear in his light and somewhat airy voice. But no one except those in his immediate vicinity could hear him anyways, so it didn't really matter.

"C-Crane!" Ronald stuttered out, eyes huge and revolving around in his thin skull as he tried to regain his bearings. "T-thought you was in Arkahm!"

"Oh, I was Ronald… I _was_." He glared down at the small, thinner man with barely controlled rage. "No thanks to you of course."

"D-don't know what y-you're talking about Crane…" his eyes shifted to some movement of Scarecrow shoulder.

"I think you do Ronald." He said once more, shaking the front of the man with his fists. "Does the name 'Batman' ring any bells to you?"

The man shook his head rapidly 'no' but didn't say anything.

"Perhaps you need your memory jogged."

This wasn't a question.

Scarecrow grabbed the mask from the inside of his and Jonathan's doctor's coat pocket, throwing it over his head as he continued to hold onto the frantically squirming man. As the breathing apparatus in the mask was placed within his mouth and the sealing on the filters secured he continued to talk, his tone going low and dark with dripping sarcasm.

"There, isn't that better now Ronald?"

"W-what are you gonna do with that?" he asked, the perpetual stutter still present in his fear laced voice.

"You should know by now Ronald, you're a bright man after all." He said, getting a better grip on the man and shifting his slacking body weight. "You have witnessed this procedure before, while you were in my employ. You _know_ what I do to those who… betray me."

"B-but it wasn't me, I swear!" he nearly shouted, now flailing and thrashing about in an attempt to get away from the masked man. "Y-you've got it all wrong!"

"I don't think so Ronald." Said Scarecrow sadly, shaking his head slowly. "But what is passed is done, no sense dwelling on it now."

He released Ronald slowly, brushing of the clearly stunned man's clothing as he stepped back to survey the scene. The best kind of fear, Scarecrow found, was brought about when a victim thought they were going to get way, only to find themselves recaptured. This sort of fear tended to be made up of a combination of expected torment, pain, and best yet, unrealized primal instinct. This was what he and Jonathan were going for.

"You're r-really letting me go, after what I did?" he asked, unsure of the words that came from his mouth.

"Yes, I am Ronald. What's done is done. I went to Arkham, served by debt to society and all that jazz…" The man didn't know he hadn't been let out on good terms, and he wasn't about the mention it. "Why don't you come with me and we'll discuss your future prospects."

"o-okay…" he said, shuffling slightly where he stood. "I'm following you."

Scarecrow smiled only slightly so that he didn't give away his true intentions just yet. The man in front of him was dumb and just so happened to be in the right place at the right time, a gift from God if he believed in that sort of thing. But, as he turned to start walking off towards the decrepit stair well, he caught the Joker's eye and tried to explain the situation to him on his own terms.

_Don't ruin this; we're going to experiment on him. _His eyes read, speaking volumes to an amused Clown Prince of Crime. _We need someone to test our formulas on, and if he isn't it we're going after you. _

The Joker didn't say anything, but smiled wider as he got the general gist of things. He calmly waited for his guide to start walking before making any kind of noise at all, and only then it was a small shift of clothing and shoes on the floor. Scarecrow didn't know if he had received his entire hidden message, but he and Jonathan were both sure that he wouldn't ruin their fun before they actually had it.

He was, after all a kindred spirit.

Oh the places they would go.

By the time that they'd entered the vile stair well and began to climb the rusted and squeaking metal contraptions to the third floor, Jonathan had already begun to work out brand new formula types in their shared mind. His duo always shared his new found ideas, trying to get his other half to actually pay attention to the specifics of his genius but so far he had no such luck. Although the now flying ideas both intrigued and excited him, a seamlessly endless amount of potential intertwined with each one.

Finally, after nearly ten minutes in the foul smelling stair well, the trio reached the landing that lead into the long hallway in which his apartment was located. The room itself was visible from the stair way, it being the furthest room in the hall and all the way at the end, so he knew that no one had disturbed it since they'd last been there by the conspicuous amount of dust on the handle and the mail shoved under the jam. He knew no one would touch it voluntarily, it being a known residency for the Scarecrow and various members of the mob and The League of Shadows and all.

The first few days that he'd moved in, however, were a completely different story. A few larger players in the area, including drugs dealers and gangsters, had tried to move in on his new found territory. They had threatened with guns, violence, sexual assault, and even going to the cops, but Jonathan had refused to be up seated. When they had tried to physically take it, things had ended in complete disaster for them. If he recalled correctly several were left for dead in the back alley ways and several were gunned down by the GCPD in a crazed frenzy.

That had taken an extreme amount of balls on Jonathan's part, something Scarecrow was even surprised by.

It also had taken a great amount of talent to make someone**that** afraid of a singular room and door, but somehow Jonathan had done it. It had taken nearly a month and a half to do so, with precious chemicals and resources being poured into the task, but the carefully laid plan had been executed flawlessly on both their parts.

He'd poisoned the entire building with concentrated and specially tailored fear power, dumped into the air vents and water supply. It had gotten into everyone in the building and after that is had only taken some quiet prompting in the right direction on his part. Subliminal stuff was simple once you got past the basic principles. He'd made a mental note not to turn on the air conditioner until he'd given himself a concentrated antidote, not that it really mattered at this point anyways.

_I was able to reverse most of the effect within the allotted time Scarecrow, so I don't see what you're so upset about. _Said Jonathan sincerely, trying to make up for his past mistake.

_You weren't there; you didn't see what I saw! _Replied Scarecrow, a sour tone evident. _Not to mention it should have killed us because it was the same strength as the stuff you gave to Rachel Dawes. _

Jonathan didn't answer.

Scarecrow didn't smile as he finally approached the darkened door way, searching for the spot he had hidden the spare key in. It didn't matter that he had locked it though: no one would have messed with it anyways. There, under the loose base board at the side of the door, was the key that would let them into his hidden little haven. Quickly he snatched it up and held it to the door lock, spinning it quickly so that he could let his assembled company in behind him.

The door protested loudly as it opened under his touch.

"Wel-come gents to the fine and upstanding realm of the Scarecrow!" thundered the Joker as he followed the quiet men into the apartment. "Watch your, uh, step and keep going until you hit Neverland."

"Thank you for that Joker, because the current state of our own home doesn't escape my attention." Replied Scarecrow sarcastically, not even bothering to turn around and respond properly. "Please, remove your shoes. Jonathan hates it when I forget."

Indeed, Jonathan had already started piping up in the back of his mind once they'd entered the apartment to remind everyone currently assembled to remove their filth covered shoes before walking on the carpet. The carpet was by no means clean, but the neat freak OCD part of Jonathan still didn't allow for such things as minor gutter trash in the room.

"He really is a, uh, _neat freak_ isn't he?" questioned Joker, whistling lowly as he continued to survey the apartment. "Spic and span ja, Doktor?"*

Scarecrow remained silent at the clear lapse into German on the Joker's part, not even wanting to touch that one with a ten foot stick. Best leave the dissections to Jonathan where they belonged.

"What, yah didn't like my ob-ser-vation or something?" asked the Joker, a smile plastered across his face. "Sie glaubten nicht, dass ich Deutsch sprechen könnte, nicht wahr?"*

"Nein, das habe ich nicht gewusst."* Replied Scarecrow quickly, not bothering to show surprise at the Joker's bilingual skills.

"Oh, ho! Looks like we've got a winner!" giggled the Joker, not even bothering to show his amusement. "What other fun things do you know that yah aren't telling me?"

Scarecrow gave Joker a scathing glance but remained cool in front of a shivering Ronald Yaeger. No sense in getting out the big arsenals until he was fully back in the saddle. Instead he smiled slightly, one that he knew would tell the Joker what was about to happen next.

"Ronald, I'm afraid this is where your journey ends." He said, striking out with the hard left hook he'd been clenching at his side for a few minutes now. "I can't have you squealing to the cops our little locations, I'm afraid you're going to have to be dealt with accordingly."

The man went down hard, thudding to the carpet in a shower of limbs and clothing. Scarecrow looked down at the unconscious man, clearly pleased with himself as he grinned on at the sight. This was beginning to be _too_ easy.

"Well Joker, what do you propose we do with him?"

* * *

***Yes doctor? **

***Didn't think I could speak german did you? **

***No, I didn't know. **

**Alas! Thank you xXDeidara-chanXx For correcting my terrible German translations. I am very sorry for the mistakes and I hope to correct others in the future. Thank you again! **


	10. Bringing Home the Bacon

**I'm so sorry for taking so long guys, I really didn't mean to drag my feet so much on this one but I was a bit busy as of late. Good news is though that I officially graduated High School and am now a Freshman Boilermaker at Purdue University! *people in Indianna run away now* That and I'm back in your fandom, fucking it up once more! XD (Sorry, I just had to pick at myself and other there for a moment. The chance persented itself and I took it. I'm very sorry.) Anywho, I'm at home all day now so there will be more to come. Stay tuned!**

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

**P.S. There is a slight confict in here just for all of you that asked. It is going to get interesting from here on out I'm sure. Bring home the Bacon!**

* * *

It hadn't taken long for the two men to decide what they were going to do with Ronald Yaeger. Between the two of them, there had been more then plenty ideas on torture and suggestions or testing new formulas on him, but one method had stood out in both of their crazed minds quite nicely. The basic idea of the whole plan had been stumbled upon rather accidently while talking about each idea they came up with and had stuck out among the others.

"We have a few new formulas that Jonathan would like to test out on him Joker, he's the perfect candidate for _our special treatment_." Smirked Scarecrow as Jonathan nodded his agreement in the back of his head. "It won't take us long to recreate the formula Jonathan and I want and then you can have him when we're done. I promise I won't_ completely_ break him."

The Joker smiled broadly at the thought, but remained silent as he went on to finish discussing the finer points with him even though Scarecrow knew that it didn't matter to anyone but Jonathan. The switch back to the good doctor happened reluctantly but agreeably on his part; wanting to get out and have some more fun sooner rather than later. He and the Joker could probably care less about how long it would take to brew up said concoction, as if it were some witch's brew instead of the potent fear drug he knew it for. But, by the way the Joker sat and engaged helpfully every once and a while, Scarecrow got the distinct feeling that he was paying far more attention to what Jonathan was saying than what he had.

Jonathan really was an attention whore.

"…but if I correct this part of the weaker formula here at these bonds and replace the hallucinogen for something a bit stronger, then I think we can actually increase the effect of the drug. This would subsequently enhance the visions produced by the subject's brain and give for a more frightening, intense illusion. It's even possible to _scare_ them to death via its influence…"

"Blah, blah, blah, something stronger, blah, blah, blah, scare them to death via its influence." That was all the Joker heard as the doctor went on rambling about whatever it was he had been talking about when he'd tuned him out. The last part though had been slightly interesting. Death because the mind thought it was under constant attack even though it wasn't. It was similar to those Old Wives Tales where if you died in your dreams you died in real life. Now _that_ was interesting.

"…can't replace too much otherwise I'll get that horrible formula that made all of test subjects laugh themselves to death. We certainly don't want that again!"

"What?" asked Joker, drawn from his drifting in space by the word 'laugh.' "Back, uh, up there for a minute Doc. What'd yah say about laughing?"

Jonathan paused in his trek around the front on the broken coffee table in front of the men. He had been pacing while thinking out loud, so the Joker had opted to sit on the dusty and broken sofa while the man got his fix and went to town. He'd put his feet up on the rickety table and it had promptly collapsed, earning him a loud laugh from himself and a death glare from his companions. It had been funny though.

"I said that if I replace too many components with other chemicals they could react and duplicate my 'Laughing Death' formula instead of a stronger, more potent formula that would literally scare someone to death." He pushed up his glasses with one finger and resumed his pacing once more. "I don't want that, laughing is your shtick, not mine."

"And what's, uh, wrong with my shtick Doc?" the Joker asked, his tone going hard and his eyes growing deadly. "A few laughs are good for your, uh, health."

Jonathan paused to consider the options of responding to the Clown. On the one had he could answer truthfully and probably be killed painfully, on the other he could not answer and incur the wrath of the Prince of Crime and take his chances. Silence usually meant weakness to him and Jonathan wasn't about to show the man anything other than genius at the moment.

"Nothing's wrong with it Joker, it just simply isn't my thing. It's_ yours_." He ventured, making it clear that Jonathan wasn't trying to move in on his territory but that he also wasn't trying to insult it. "I have no desire to fight you for something that just is not my game. Fear, on the other hand, it."

"Uh, nice save there Jonny Boy, way to bring home the bacon. Anyways, I want to hear more about that, uh, _Laughing Death _formula of yours. Sounds pre-tty darn inter-resting to me!"

"Why would you want a mistake like that when you could have a wonderful symphony of terrified screams instead?" asked Jonathan, clearly confused.

"Because it will throw off the Bat."

*****

Ever since then the two had got to work on reestablishing outside connections and contacts, trying to get the necessary supplies for the caper they were now planning. After a few hours of phone calls made on a stolen cell phone that the Joker had come up with and a few sheets of crumpled paper Jonathan had found to write on, the plan was slowly taking shape. They had a good idea where to get the necessary components for the laughing toxin, they had the suppliers and or places to obtain said supplied, and they all had thugs they could pull strings with and get to help out.

The Joker had assured Jonathan that he could get _anyone_ to work for him just by simply taking to them. Jonathan hadn't pointed out that he had tried to persuade the Batman on a number of occasions and failed miserably in the process. He rather liked him front teeth and lungs. Jonathan had, however, told him that they would need his expertise in getting their hands on a diversion so that Batman would be more interested in that then the odd rash of chemical thefts. If he caught on to soon then the entire plan would be ruined.

The Joker just laughed at Jonathan's choice of words loudly before getting him to toss him back the cell phone and quickly punched in a few numbers before placing the cancer device to his head. For a few minutes he would sit and listen, then bark orders into the phone and listen a bit some more before hanging up and redialing the phone. It didn't take him long for a plan to come together and for the Joker, who wasn't a schemer but a connecter, to have a diversion up and ready to go. After he had told Jonathan the plan, he lay back on the couch lazily and shut his eyes.

He was going to plant some bombs in a school building somewhere in down town suburbs Gotham, set to go off at midnight that night so that the Bat would be drawn out and away from the chemical supply company across town. This would give them plenty of time to access the supplier and collect the chemicals. It wasn't some part of a greater scheme to rid the city of the lower vermin like the Joker was used to, but it served its purpose and would send the GCPD ,as well as Batsy, off on a wild goose chase.

It would also leave them clueless and wondering what the Hell was going to happen next.

Jonathan added another mental note to the ever growing list that was the Joker's file. _**Unpredictability**__, he likes to remain elusive but precise while retaining the upper hand. Maybe slight control issues stem from a family dynamic problem? _His mind continued to think about things while his body stopped doing whatever it was he was telling it to do, forcing Scarecrow to get up from his nice nap and take over for a bit again.

"He, uh, doing that _thin-king_ thing again Crow?" asked the Joker without looking up to the Scarecrow.

How the man did it through closed eyes was beyond him and oddly creped him out a bit. The doctors at Arkham couldn't tell the shift, his closest peers couldn't tell the shift, his own damn great grandmother couldn't tell the shift, but this man who'd spent less than a total of twenty-four consecutive hours in his presents knew when it occurred. That was dangerous.

"He is, forgot to do important things like remain alert and attentive to his surroundings. I think I spoil him to much sometimes." It wasn't meant to be humorous but the Joker laughed anyways.

"Well now, good to know one of yah has a sensible grasp on the worl-_d_." He enunciated the last syllable in 'world' just to annoy Scarecrow. "Think he'd be dead without yah, that's for sure. For someone so, uh,_ smart_, he certainly isn't very bright."

"What do you mean by that Joker?" growled out the Scarecrow menacingly, pulling up to his full height and shooting the clown a death glare that chilled the blood of other people instantaneously. Was he insinuating that Jonathan was _dumb_? "Jonathan is a genius."

The Joker seemed to take the hint and back off slightly, sitting up and raising his hands in mock surrender towards the Scarecrow. He smiled goofily but his eyes told a different story, one of danger if this progressed too much farther.

"Of course he is! I'm not, uh, saying he isn't." the Joker licked his lips and paused gingerly.

"Then what are you saying Clown?" he turned to face him fully now. "Best speak up. I'm not known for my over whelming amount of patience, nor my abundance of self control when I become…upset."

At this, the Joker laughed even harder, doubling over in his seat and leaning forwards to put his head against his knees so that he didn't suffocate while he laughed. It came out in torrents of mismatched syllables, each one sounding like nails on a chalk board rather than a sound of mirth or good heartedness. Not that the last word could be used in application to the Joker, Jonathan and Scarecrow weren't even sure if he actually _had_ a heart after all, let alone it being anything other than black and rotten to the core. Batman's name might be stitched on it somewhere too…

"The…the look on your face is priceless Crow!" he rasped out in between giggles and chuckles. "You look like a petulant child or, uh, something!"

"Oh really now?" asked Scarecrow, trying now to desperately control his rage and the stress that was coming with it. "And you look like wha…"

The Scarecrow froze mid sentence, his eyes going wide and glassy, his limbs going ridged as he looked passed the Joker at some unseen attacker. The Joker stopped laughing and look up, giving the smaller man a puzzled look as he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"Uh, Crow? Yah in there?" he said, now standing up to go and wave a hand in front of his face. "Hel-lo, earth to Doc and Crow!"

They didn't respond, just stood there looking past him to a darkened corner of the room with wide eyes. He didn't understand what was going on, it was like he'd sprayed himself in the face with his own compound or… Oh, Batman had force fed it to him during their first encounter hadn't he? Joker wondered if he'd caused as much brain damage as the look on the doctor's once placid face now indicated? Probably, and by the looks of it he was having an episode or attack or something.

"They're not real…They're not real." he chanted, moving back slowly away from the shadow that was in the corner of the room behind the Joker and in front of him. "The birds _**are not**_ real!"


	11. Out Of The Frying Pan and Into The Fire

**Chance Encounters Eleven**

**Jonathan's panic attack brought to you today by stress, the ever loving disorder that I'm positive he suffers from. I should know, I have it to. It causes a multitude of other nasty little habits and problems to form, some of which match his symptoms. He only takes medication if he needs to because he doesn't think he needs it, just like me. I don't take it unless I _absolutely_ have to. He has a similair personality to mine so I can see this as plausible. The Joker will also be getting violent and unpredictable, just like you all seem to want. He does recreate himself each day and I'm aware of that so don't worry. **

**Now the fun pairing time starts, slight slash in this one kidlets so beware! Things are gonna get fun from here on out! Rattings may or may not change in the next few chapters. Keep your eyes peeled. **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

"The birds _**are not**_ real!" shouted Jonathan for the umpteenth time in less than twenty minutes, which had started to really annoy the Joker.

He had given up a few minutes ago with trying to rationalize with the now far-gone man before him. The Scarecrow had decided him a threat and took a nice swing at him during the first few minutes, catching him right above the left side of his face right where the scars where. It had hurt, for someone as small as Crane he sure did have a lovely hook, but that wasn't what had annoyed the Joker the most. He was a masochist after all. No, what had annoyed the Joker was the fact that the he found _true insanity_ within the Doctor's eyes. Not the crap that those doctors at Arkham blew off on them, but true, authentic, and real insanity that couldn't be dealt with.

That had pissed him off.

Here he thought that the doc, as well as the Scarecrow, was someone who could see things from his perspective. He was most certainly not crazy, no, far from it actually. His was of seeing the world was just a bit…different from other's views. When he'd learned of what Jonny Boy had done, Joker thought he found a fellow idealist. He had been right up until this half hour of his life. Normally he wasn't this bad of a judge in character.

But Jonathan was like him, just not right at this moment, he had to keep reminding himself. He _was_ of the same mentality that had created him, he really was! And here they had been doing so well together too. Guess their plans would have to wait until Jonny stopped freaking out in the corner of the room.

The Joker soon grew bored of waiting for the cowering man to come out of his darkened corner so he stood up, opting to wander around the tidy/dusty apartment in search of some entertainment. He had no urge to tend to the man freaking out near him, let alone want to actually do anything about it. For the first ten minutes it had been slightly hilarious. Then it got annoying, which lead to the boredom that he was now experiencing.

"Yah sure know when to, uh, pick a good time to start panicking don't yah Jonny Boy?" asked Joker with a displeased tone, but a smile none the less.

He didn't get an answer, but he hadn't been expecting one either. So instead he continued his investigation of the tiny apartment while continuing with his attempt to block out the noises emanating out of the terrified ex-psychologist. Who the Hell was afraid of birds anyways?

Of all the dumb things to be afraid of, the one that Joker had deemed enough fun to play with him had to go and be afraid of something as stupid as birds! Not snakes, not something sensible like heights or even bugs. _Ahem…insects_, he corrected himself. His high school biology teacher had always pounded into his skull that the correct term was insects and that only uneducated people called them bugs. Joker wondered if Jonathan knew the difference.

"Hey, hah, Jonny Boy, what do yah call those creepy little things that you get crawling over yah when you die?" He giggled some more at his little inside joke. "I can't remember what yah call 'em."

"Birds…" was all the Joker got out of him.

That did it, that was the final straw so to speak. The Joker couldn't take it anymore! He was bored out of his skull and his only source of entertainment was cowering in the corner like some beast afraid of being kicked or something. It was too much for him to handle.

"Get up would yah?" he half shouted at Jonathan, lunging at him. "Do something unpredictable, do something out of the norm, do something _useful_ would yah! All of this shrinking violet stuff is getting on my, uh, nerves."

He grabbed the front of Jonathan shirt roughly, dragging the smaller man up with him as he stood up. A few good shakes fully got the only whimpering man into full blown hysterics, making him resort to lashing out randomly in defense against something only he could see. If the Joker hadn't been so ticked off about the whole thing, he might have wondered what the man before him was seeing.

"And yah call yourself a scientific genius!" he shoved Jonathan away from him harshly as he stepped back, looking for something to take his frustration out on instead of his newest found form of entertainment. "Can't even get over your, uh, own compound can yah?"

By now Jonathan was curled up in the fetal position in the spot where the Joker had dropped him, hitting his head against the ground ever so slightly in what looked like some catatonic form of self mutilation.

"Not that he didn't…didn't try Joker."Scarecrow choked out, trying to regain enough lucidness to respond and participate in the one sided conversation the Joker was now having with a long gone Jonathan. "It wasn't enough…to long after to completely reverse."

"Oh, so now the big bad bag of straw wants to go on and play hero huh? Come on Crow; tell me what yah mean by that." Joker was taunting and bating them now. "Show me why I shouldn't rid myself of your, uh, twitching companion and yourself now? Yah aren't much fun like this anymore."

"Focus in the pain…" Scarecrow got out before biting his and Jonathan's arm like an animal and hissing. "We k-know that the visions aren't real, but our b-body isn't so easily convinced… Hit us!"

The Joker stopped turning on his heel abruptly, turning back to regard the crumpled men before him. Had he heard correctly?

"What'd yah say there Crow?" he held a hand to his ear as if listening. "Couldn't hear what yah, uh, said."

"You heard u-us just fine Joker. Now. Do. It." He gritted his teeth and prepared himself for the oncoming torment that would help to right the ever tilting world they now resided in. "Hit u…"

His plea was cut off as a sock clad foot collided with his stomach, knocking all the wind from their shared lungs in a rush of pure agony and brilliant lights. Scarecrow allowed no noise to pass through their lips as yet again another blow was placed upon their abdomen, helping him to reign in Jonathan's consciousness so that he could call out to his terrified counterpart. Begging him to stay with him, to cling to him if need be in order to stay afloat in the sea of madness that threatened to consume them both, drowning out Scarecrow as he tried to reach his other.

He was so committed to finding Jonathan that he didn't even hear the harsh wheezing like giggles that came from the Joker as he rained down frustration and punishment on Jonathan's body. He was having fun now; this game was right up his alley! Who knew that Crow and Jonny Boy liked it rough? Another torrent of laughs spewed from his demonic looking mouth, causing Crow to look up at him with wide and frightful eyes.

The Joker truly was a demon in human form.

_Make him stop!_ Wailed Jonathan's voice in the back of Scarecrow's personality, begging for the torment to end and for the world to just leave him in peace so that he could fade away. _Please Scarecrow! _

"J-Jonathan…hold on…just a little longer and I'll have e-enough to regain control." Scarecrow winced as another blow was dealt to his and Jonathan's bruising frame. "Just a few more J-Joker!"

A giggle was all the response that they got before another blow hit them in the head.

That was when the world around them started spinning.

Another blow making the world grow dark.

***

What the Hell was going on around here?

Why did his body and head hurt so badly, why were he and Scarecrow still enveloped in complete darkness, and what in the world was going on around him? The last thing that Jonathan remembered was having the discussion with the Joker about his failed serum of Fear Toxin that he had so un-fondly nicknamed "Laughing Death" or something along those lines. Then there was something fuzzy about the Joker's case he had been mentally building in his mind and then Scarecrow had taken over for him while he thought. But now he couldn't remember what had happened…

Slowly he tried to sit up but was suddenly stopped by a shooting pain ripping through his ribs and lower torso area, causing him to gasp out loud and flop back to the mattress in agony. While clutching his side, Jonathan slowly tried to sit up again and plant his feet over the edge of his bed.

This time at least he was successful.

Now all he had to do was will himself to get up, good, now steadily walk across the room to the closed door and find the Joker to see what had transpired between them. Scarecrow was uncharacteristically silent and Jonathan was worried about him, but maybe he was still sleeping so he let him be.

It took a bit but he was finally able to will himself to move slowly across the room to the door and open it, all while balancing himself against the wall and clutching his darkened side gingerly. The door to his room was silent, just the way he remembered it, as he opened it and walked into the hallway clumsily. The light in the living room was off, but Jonathan could clearly see the soft glow of the television on so he assumed that the Joker was up.

"Jok-" he cut himself off as quickly as he could before turning a violent shade of magenta and turning his back on the sleeping clown.

Wandering down towards the living room was probably not the smartest move that he'd ever made, let alone to see if _The Joker _was awake. That alone was scary enough as it was, but this… Jonathan most certainly wasn't ready for the sight that would assault him from across the room, forever burning its way into his retina as he scrambled to get away from the living room and into the kitchen for a glass of water hastily.

Who knew that they made Hello Kitty! boxers in that size?

Jonathan could feel his face burning with the thought that the Joker was sprawled out on his couch in nothing but his oversized purple coat, used as a pillow, a blanket he found somewhere, and wearing only his boxer shorts. It looked like he had fallen asleep watching the Gotham Nightly News or something along those lines from the brief look that Jonathan had gotten before the urge to run had over taken him and he had "rushed" from the room as quickly as he could. Now here he was standing in the kitchen with the image flashing before his eyes and no one to talk to about said imprint.

It was disturbing to say the least and Jonathan wanted to remove it, but knew that it would be impossible to do it now. Now it would forever be there, stuck in the back of his mind.

_I wonder what other types of boxers he has… _Jonathan tried to cut that train of thought off there before it went somewhere he didn't want it to travel. He had never really been bothered with his orientation before, the need had never really come up before. He had everything that he could want so the need for such lude things as sex had never been a prominent issue. He also hadn't given it much thought so he wasn't sure himself.

But what about the Joker, certainly he had a tendency to "swing that way" so to speak? Jonathan, even in the confines of Arkham Asylum, had heard about the Joker's cross dressing abilities. He himself had mentioned his Nurse costume on multiple occasions in the recreation room. So what stopped him from being like that? He also, on a number of occasions, confessed his love for the Batman so there had to be something there. Jonathan was sure of it.

That was when Jonathan heard the mumbling start.

* * *

**I'm terrified of birds. Enough said, it is a stupid phobia hence the name "phobia" meaning the irrational fear of something. **

**My biology teacher does demand the same thing, that we call them insects and not bugs. He yells at us if we don't and I have never heard him say anything else, even when reading from the book. He always changes the words if they said the dreaded 'b' word. **

**They do make men's boxer shorts with Hello Kitty! on them. Please, my brother has a pair. They're the kind of thing that I can see the Joker owning.**


	12. Breaking Down The Walls of Jericho

**Chance Encounters Twelve**

**Now things are nasty. This is, by far, my favorite chapter in the history of my writing. The other day I discovered something I think you'll all find rather interesting. Hang on to your hats, kiddies, this is about to get intense. I want to know all your opinions on this when you get done reading, so please review! Enjoy!**

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

Jonathan froze where he was, leaning up against the old counter top with a dusty glass in hand. He had just retrieved the cup from the rickety cupboard and was about to run it under the sink when he first heard the muttering. It was low at first, just a few random syllables of sound here and there in among the sounds of sleep, but after a few more minutes the sounds turned to words and the words formed sentences.

Soon the sentences even started to make sense.

Jonathan carefully laid the cup down on the counter quietly before turning around to look over the counter island at the figure lying on his old couch asleep. He was quiet the sight lying there, sprawled out and half nude in Hello Kitty! boxers and what not, but that wasn't what Jonathan was focused on anymore. Not even the scars, previously the most interesting of topics, held as much interest as what the Joker was now saying in his sleep.

It didn't make sense at first, the random words holding no more meaning then a trashed dictionary that had been ripped apart by dogs, but then the streams started to form an intricate web that displayed the inner workings of the Joker's unstable mind. Snippets of plans, feelings of pure giddiness and joy, spouting through in sleep is said to be one of the most accurate judge of character known to man with the exception of the influence of alcohol. Jonathan didn't think the Joker seemed like the drinking type, although he did seem to like crappy Chinese take out by the look of the floor around the couch.

He really couldn't believe that he didn't see it before. The boxers, the coat now being used as a pillow, the holey blanket which clearly wasn't his, and the Chinese boxes…that means that whatever had happened to make him pass out had lasted long enough for The Joker to venture out into the world. That statement in itself wasn't something positive or helpful. And by the looks of things he had taken his time and gathered some of his own supplies. But what else did he retrieve?

Oh he was going to find out.

It is common knowledge that some people suffer from what psychologists all over the world have dubbed "sleep talk." Jonathan was no exception when it came to parasomnias, or involuntary behaviors while asleep, but he had never thought of the Joker as someone who also suffered from this affliction. Usually it was caused by the desire to do more while awake, a lack of accomplishment, or the hiding of secrets. The Joker never seemed to suffer from any of those, so Jonathan was curious about what was happening in his living room.

Although he didn't seem to be having a night terror like he himself did, no, quite the opposite actually. He seemed to be having a _good_ dream, one involving the Batman and enough C-4 to blow up Gotham City by the words and giggles emanating from him. Every couple of sentences uttered had to do with impossible threats to the city and the Batman. This bothered Jonathan because the stuff that made up the Joker's dreams were the fibers of his own nightmares. The events from the bowels of Arkham where the Scarecrow had been fully released from his mental bonds played before Jonathan's eyes as he unconsciously moved closer to the clown.

But he caught himself quickly, taking enough steps backwards to still remain safe in the kitchen. Unfortunately for him, his curious nature and the nagging desire to figure out what the clown was dreaming about made his feet start moving once more.

Slowly Jonathan made his way towards the couch, taking his time so that he remained completely silent in his endeavor. All he had to do was sit down close to the Joker and slowly slip his suggestions to him in order to pump him of information, then sit back to wait for the unconscious reply. If he went slowly enough he could keep it up for as long as he wanted to without the Joker ever knowing what had happened. Simple, he'd done it before to countless patience at Arkham in order to slip his suggestions in and get information out.

The Joker was no different than anyone else in that God forsaken place.

As he knelt down next to the old and worn couch, Jonathan felt his knees hit the dirty carpet as he settled into a comfortable kneeling position. This angle was perfect, his height allowed him easy access to the man's ear and face to watch for awareness, but also was comfortable for him to sit still in for long periods of time. Jonathan started slowly, his voice light and soothing.

"Joker…" he would start with something simple.

"Hmmm?" groaned out the Clown, shifting slightly but not doing anything more.

"What's your favorite color?" the smile on Jonathan's face could barely be contained, but he managed to keep it from his voice.

"Purple of course…No, green." He clutched the coat on his arm above his head protectively. "No, purple."

"Good." He cooed, pleased. "Now, what do you see? What are you doing?"

"Running through the, uh, streets of Gotham after Batsy… He doesn't want to play with me." A look of disturbance passed across his face as he thought about this, causing Jonathan's pulse to speed up. "Don't know why though, _everyone_ likes to play with _me_."

"Yes, they do." Now for the fun things, the more complicated matters. "What is your name?"

"Silly, it's Joker of course!" the harsh little wheezes were considered giggles by Jonathan. "I don't have another name…"

Jonathan sighed and hung his head a bit. Even in sleep this man was mocking him, something he really didn't want to encourage, and it was frustrating. He didn't want to talk to the Joker, he wanted to talk to whoever was there before the Joker. Someone he knew the clown had to have buried for longer than he could even remember. So he decided to try again.

"No Joker, what is your _real_ name, the one your parents gave you at birth?"

The look once again crossed over Joker's face, creasing his face as if he was thinking really hard. Jonathan reflected that he probably was. The mind was an amazing machine, producing complicated thoughts even though the consciousness of it was momentarily turned off. The duel sided technique it used in its process was beyond fascinating, shifting sides in order to defend itself.

"Don't know…Can't remember if I, uh, had parents." He scratched at his face nervously, catching the keeliods on his face while doing so, causing him to wince. "Don't remember much of anything…"

"Well then, what do you remember?" asked Jonathan, voice still soothing even though he was slightly irritated from the turn of events. "It's alright, you can tell me. I'm here to help you."

"Ngh… Someone is named Jack. I don't know if it is, uh, me or not… There's a lot of screaming to. Did I do something wrong again?" he licked his lips nervously again.

"You did nothing wrong here Jack." Said Jonathan, using the name the Joker had given to him in order to allow him access to the Joker's deeper, buried mind. "I just want you to tell me where you are right now."

"In a…warehouse I think. I can't tell though, there's, uh, no furniture or crates here." He shifted a bit more, this time closer to both Jonathan and the coat that was almost falling off the couch now. "Just lots of broken glass with a lot of yelling, don't like the yelling…"

"Who's yelling Jack, is it someone you know?" Now Jonathan was getting somewhere here. "Do they want to hurt you?"

"Don't know, they just won't shut up… I can hear sirens or something here." He started to trash a bit, but Jonathan held his arm to try and calm him. Then, out of the blue, he said something that would both floor and astound Jonathan. "Where's my wife? Where's Jeannie? Gotta' get to the hospital on time!"

Jonathan, startled took a shaky breath and leaned back further on his heels.

"Who's Jeannie Jack? Why is she at the hospital?"

"My…wife, I think. She was, uh, pregnant too... I was going to be a father." The smile the Joker now wore was one that Jonathan had never seen on the man, one that was something close to _genuine happiness_, the first he'd ever seen on the clown. "They're dead."

Those last two words hit Jonathan full force in the gut, robbing him of the breath he was so desperately trying to take after this little revelation. So it was true then, the Joker had been someone else before he was what he was now… He had had a family, a wife, an unborn child. What else was he hiding in there?

"Jack, do you remember anything before this? Do you remember your mother, father perhaps?" Jonathan delved deeper now, wanting, no, _needing_ to know who this man was. What fueled him.

"Momma, she's dead now too… Just like Jeannie. My Father, he was a drunkard. A thief. A liar." His frown creased his forehead and greasepaint once more. "He made me smile forever… Made momma smile forever."

That was it!

The scars, the family problems, the death wife and child! It suddenly all fit, Jonathan was sure he knew what was wrong with this man now! He knew why he did what he did, understood the compulsion this new man, created from the psychological break with reality, was faced with! Calming momentarily, trying to regain his composure, Jonathan lulled the Joker back into the hands of Morpheus once more.

"Jack, I want you to go back to sleep now. Thank you for talking with me, know that you are safe." Said Jonathan quietly, standing back up while his knees popped loudly.

"M'kay Doc."

The Joker could never know what he had said to Jonathan.

He wouldn't remember it himself, anything said to him in this state wasn't likely to make it into the still slumbering man's memory, and for that Jonathan was eternally thankful. Just like sleep walking, sleep discussions or talking weren't considered important enough for the brain to remember and therefore disregarded with the rest of the "trash" stored there. But if he ever knew that he had bestowed the Scarecrow, Master of Fear and the breaker of psyches, with such information, then Jonathan's life would surely be in danger, if not completely snuffed out.

But that could be contemplated another time. Right now Jonathan was mentally going over every fraction of detail and information his brain had stored about the affliction known as Borderline Personality Disorder, or BPD. It all fit, the sudden bouts of anger and aggression, sudden mood swings, shifty personal relations, a high rate of self-injury without suicidal intent, and many others. Suddenly, Jonathan remembered a passage from a medical journal he had read once on the strange condition.

_"__Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is a serious mental illness characterized by pervasive instability in moods, interpersonal relationships, self-image, and behavior. This instability often disrupts family and work life, long-term planning, and the individual's sense of self-identity. Originally thought to be at the "borderline" of psychosis, people with BPD suffer from a disorder of emotion regulation_…

_While a person with depression or bipolar disorder typically endures the same mood for weeks, a person with BPD may experience intense bouts of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last only hours, or at most a day. These may be associated with episodes of impulsive aggression, self-injury, and drug or alcohol abuse. Distortions in cognition and sense of self can lead to frequent changes in long-term goals, career plans, jobs, friendships, gender identity, and values. Sometimes people with BPD view themselves as fundamentally bad, or unworthy. They may feel unfairly misunderstood or mistreated, bored, empty, and have little idea who they are. Such symptoms are most acute when people with BPD feel isolated and lacking in social support, and may result in frantic efforts to avoid being alone._

_People with BPD often have highly unstable patterns of social relationships. While they can develop intense but stormy attachments, their attitudes towards family, friends, and loved ones may suddenly shift from idealization (great admiration and love) to devaluation (intense anger and dislike). Thus, they may form an immediate attachment and idealize the other person, but when a slight separation or conflict occurs, they switch unexpectedly to the other extreme and angrily accuse the other person of not caring for them at all. Even with family members, individuals with BPD are highly sensitive to rejection, reacting with anger and distress to such mild separations as a vacation, a business trip, or a sudden change in plans. These fears of abandonment seem to be related to difficulties feeling emotionally connected to important persons when they are physically absent, leaving the individual with BPD feeling lost and perhaps worthless. Suicide threats and attempts may occur along with anger at perceived abandonment and disappointments._

_People with BPD exhibit other impulsive behaviors, such as excessive spending, binge eating and risky sex, as well as other conditions. BPD often occurs together with other psychiatric problems, particularly bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety disorders, substance abuse, and other personality disorders…_

_Although the cause of BPD is unknown, both environmental and genetic factors are thought to play a role in predisposing patients to BPD symptoms and traits. Studies show that many, but not all individuals with BPD report a history of abuse, neglect, or separation as young children.__ Researchers believe that BPD results from a combination of individual vulnerability to environmental stress, neglect or abuse as young children, and a series of events that trigger the onset of the disorder as young adults. Adults with BPD are also considerably more likely to be the victim of violence, including rape and other crimes. This may result from both harmful environments as well as impulsivity and poor judgement in choosing partners and lifestyles."_

There, it all fit: every single piece.

Why hadn't he seen it before now?

It was so completely obvious to him now!

Surely one of the two of them, himself or Scarecrow, should have seen this before now!

Speaking of which, where was Scarecrow?

It wasn't like him to sleep this late when Jonathan had already gotten up, not to mention the wonderfully revealing little session that he had just had with the Joker and his repressed personality Jack. He of all people could revel in him discovering of the root of all The Joker's behavior, a philosophical gold mine for the both of them!

So where was he at?

_Scarecrow?_

There was no reply.

* * *

**All information was taken directly from different sites I found about BPD. Here are the few that I use, the one the quote came from being at the top.** **So far this is the best reasoning and base for the Joker's many different tendancies. He possess all of the traditional characteristics of BPD and then some, giving me good reason to suspect as much. **

http :// www .nimh . nih. gov/ health/ publications/ borderline- personality- disorder- fact- sheet / index. shtml= **BEST JOKER MAP EVER! This is exactly where I got the block quote and main information regarding my diagnosis of the Joker's condition. Please remove the spaces while doing your own search.  
**

/borderline/ tunnel. htm = **Accounts for Joker personality some more, also discusses "sleep talking."**

/category/neurological-disorders/ = **Jonny and his little issues.**

http://en./wiki/Neurological_disorder = **Lists of other things potentially wrong with the pair.**

**  
**http://en./wiki/Borderline_personality_disorder = **Wikipedia's account of the situation.**

/~ = **More stuff, see above.**


	13. Pretty, Pretty Princesses

**Sorry for the delay folks, I hope you enjoyed my other little story while I got this one back on track. I'm a bit flighty if you can't tell, so sorry again for the delay. Please forgive me. In other news, this chapter has a bit of useless fluff towards the end that I think you will all enjoy and it is the begining of the pairing without jumping head long into something I can't completely manage yet. Please take this humble woman's writing with a grain of salt. Thanks for waiting! **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

"Scarecrow?" whispered Jonathan uneasily into the oppressing silence of the room. "Where are you?"

Again there was no reply other than the silence.

This scared Jonathan more than anything because he didn't remember what happened to them, or how he'd gotten the Hell beaten out of him. Or, on top of all that, how long they'd even been out. The blackness that had just released him was extensive, giving no indications or hints as to what had occurred. The only thing out of the ordinary in the living room, besides the boxer clad Joker on the couch, was the slight stain from where it looked like blood had been cleaned up.

Or tried to be cleaned up anyways. The stains were still there, dark brown instead of red which meant they weren't fresh, but they hadn't been their last time he'd been awake. So, judging by the looks and the odd discoloration in the newest stains on his carpeting, he would have to say he'd been out for maybe two to three days at the most. One at the very least, but Jonathan wouldn't know for sure until either the Joker woke up or Scarecrow came back.

Right now Jonathan was banking more for Scarecrow. He really didn't have the desire to disturb, much less, wake up the Clown Prince of Crime. A man who was widely known for disemboweling people just for fun and with absolutely no apparent reason. No, Jonathan didn't have a death wish. He wasn't going to bother Joker, let alone waking him from sleep only to promptly interrogate him. He would be patient; he would and could wait for his alter to come back.

But that meant waiting for him which was something Jonathan didn't find himself doing very often. Scarecrow had always been there with him, ever since he could first remember things fully. Now he was nowhere to be found and it absolutely terrified him. Stupid dependency habit…

He slunk to the carpet in front of the now replaced coffee table that the Joker had propped up with what looked like one of his favorite books. The cover was well worn and the once glossy letters were now slightly faded and missing in placed. Yes, definitely one of his favorites. Jonathan sunk his head into one of his hands that had been propped up on his knee, holding it as a small tension headache started to form in the back of his skull.

"Yah thinking again there Jonny, 'cause you've got that look on your face that screams 'deep concentration' to the general public yah know." The Joker's voice suddenly said in the silent room, causing Jonathan's heart to momentarily stop. "It'll make your face freeze that way."

He laughed loudly at his own joke at Jonathan's expense, but the doctor was hardly in the mood for such ridiculous humor. He wanted to know where Scarecrow was, and he wanted to know _right now_. That and what the Hell had happened to them both because he felt as if he'd been hit by a freight train or something with equal force.

"What happened to me Joker? Why is my body black and blue and just what transpired in my absence to make Scarecrow this uncharacteristically quiet? How long was I out?" his voice was low and deadly. "I want to know what happened _now_."

"Don't get your, uh, undies in a twist Jonny Boy. You and your…little partner had an episode, that's all. A rather vi-o-lent one, I must say, but an episode none the less." He pretended to be cleaning his nails as Jonathan glared daggers at him, the image losing any value because of how the Joker was dressed. "You were out for two and a half days I, uh, think."

"It is safe to assume then that I either did this to myself, or, you did this to me." He gestured lazily down at his side and up at his face. "So, which one of my assumptions is correct?"

"Uh, I did it of course." Said the Joker, puffing his chest out with pride. "Who else could give you such tasteful marks besides whoever gave you that nice scar on you left cheek?"

Jonathan's eyes froze over: fixing the clown with a star to rival that of Lucifer's when cast from Heaven. Now if only looks could kill, then Jonathan would be getting somewhere, or at the very least maim someone. But no…all he could do was stare defensively and think of the time when Rachel Dawes, little Ms. DA-Pain in the Ass, had tazered him into a shock like state. Not that he would tell Joker that.

"Point taken Joker. However, that doesn't really tell me much about what happened here. I –"

"Yah freaked out like some newbie, uh, on a bad trip!" The Joker said in clear irritation, snapping and flying at him in nothing but boxers while wiggling his finger accusingly at him. "Crow _asked_ for this for your, uh, information! I just obliged him!"

So he had had another break, great. That was just what Jonathan needed in this situation, a reason for the Joker to beat him and for the Scarecrow to take a vacation as he did after almost every episode he had. Pain tended to refocus his mind, and causing said infliction of pain is tiring. Scarecrow was just sleeping it off somewhere in the back of his mind and would be back later when he felt better, leaving Jonathan to deal with the situation at hand.

"I see. Then the point is moot and no longer of importance." Jonathan stood and walked towards his bed room. "We need to go out and get some supplied for our next stage of the plan. I have clothes you can fit into I think, but you can't wear your outfit out of here."

"And why's that?"

"Because it draws too much unwanted attention to us and this job requires a discrete approach. We need to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb." Jonathan pointed at the Joker's coat with obvious distain.

"I have something, uh, better than suits Jonny, which you can't wear anyways because they'll be looking for that. Besides, no one wears suits anymore." The Joker got up and started rummaging around behind the couch for a minute before a small duffle bag was flung over the top and straight at Dr. Crane. "I brought my own threads in case of an emergency like this."

"You planned on me saying that?" Jonathan asked, staring from the bag to the Joker hesitantly as if it would attack him.

"No, just thought ahead. Told yah I don't plan Jonny." The Joker winked before running off down the hall and into the bathroom at the end of it with his own duffle bag stuffed to the brim. "Last one out's a rotten egg!"

Reluctantly Jonathan got up and headed for the bedroom.

***

When Jonathan came out of the bedroom, he noticed that the door to the bathroom was still closed tightly and the light was still on. That meant one thing; that the Joker had yet to emerge fully dressed and ready to go, which was fine by him. While he waited he looked in the mirrored doors on his small closet, longing for the suits that lay beneath their reflective surface. He wished more than anything that he could change out of this idiotic clothing and back into his own.

The Joker had little taste when it came to fashion.

Jonathan's outfit was weird, even by the Joker's tastes. (Which was saying something about the clothing.) He had done a fine job sizing him, everything fit surprisingly well. But he couldn't help but feel slightly out of place in the clothing he now wore. The jeans he had on were extremely tight fitting and a dark blue color, running all the way down his legs until they tucked over his flat shoes slightly. Jeans were not something he ever wore, even when by himself, so they were a foreign concept to him to say the least. The fact that these were "skinny" jeans only made matters worse because they hugged his hips tightly and showed off his figure more than he would have liked.

His shirt was also something he wished to change out of. It was a bright shade of pastel yellow with a large rainbow sprouting out of a book below it. (There had been a black one that said "Everyone Is Entitled To My Opinion" but he had discarded that one because it was too large for his small frame, even if Scarecrow had liked that one the best.) The words read "Reading is for Awesome People!" and it fell just over the top of pants so that it tucked into the belt buckle that had already been picked out for him. It was some sort of controller by the looks of it.

"Joker, what is this thing?" he asked, pointing to the bulky silver clasp with one long finger as he stood outside of the bathroom door. The Joker couldn't see it, but apparently he knew what Jonathan was talking about just by the small noise that came from it when he tapped it with his finger nail. A hollow metallic sound ringing in the silent walk way.

"You don't know what a Nintendo remote looks like?" The Joker sounded almost offended, but Jonathan couldn't be sure. "Everyone knows what a Nintendo controller looks like!"

"No, I thought that seemed apparent." Jonathan snapped back, not in the least bit comfortable. "I didn't have one growing up and have never had the need for one. Therefore I wouldn't know what one was."

"You really are a stick in the mud aren't you?" The Joker was still smiling slightly now, Jonathan could tell even though there was a door in between them. "Alright, how do I look?"

Jonathan turned around to face the now opened doorway where the Joker stood proudly, arms spread out for Jonathan's viewing pleasure. The man before him was different, not the Joker that had gone in nearly thirty minutes before. It was creepy to say the least.

He wore a t-shirt that had the most fitting saying on it that Jonathan had ever seen before, one that made him smile despite his best efforts to keep it controlled. The shirt itself was black and had white print on it saying "I Smile Because You've All Finally Driven Me Insane!" and was absolutely, one-hundred percent Joker approved. Jonathan couldn't help but laugh at the situation and the little bleached placed dotting the once fully black shirt.

The Joker took this as a good sign and did a three sixty, showing off the scarf the hung around his waist that secured the grungy pants that hung off his hips to his body. His jeans had large holes in them, and were covered with specks of dirt and splatters of paint. His belt hung low to his knees and covered one pocket where Jonathan assumed he was hiding a knife, he never left without one, on top of the fabric rested a chain that looped into his back pocket. His shoes were also to the same effect as his pants, covered in tiny pink elephants and completely dirty.

The whole look screamed "punk-dirt" to Jonathan, a fitting title for the likes of the Joker who never seemed overly hygienic. If Jonathan had to describe him, this was exactly the way he would have done it. His hair was pulled back into a low pony tail at the nape of his neck (hiding the tinted green) and his face was smooth and flawless, covered up by some kind of make-up that hid the scars.

Genius.

This way the two of them could move around freely without drawing unwanted attention to themselves: partly because their appearances wouldn't be recognized. This pale, former version of him would be just what the doctor ordered, so to speak. Jonathan didn't have to worry about his face or scars, no one cared what the dreaded Scarecrow look like without his mask anyways, but the Joker was instantly recognizable even without the face paint. His scars were just too horrendous not to be noticed. Now neither of them had to worry.

It was beyond genius actually, it was_ perfect_.

"Something funny there Jonny?" the Joker asked, his own humor and smile shinning through. "Is there something in my teeth?"

Actually, Jonathan noticed that his teeth didn't look as yellow or rancid as they normally did. They looked more human now that all traces of red where gone from his face, giving Jonathan the faintest idea that part of that disgusting tint happened to be caused by the reflective light coming from the red paint he usually wore. Jonathan thought that he would have been handsome had someone not mangled his face and permanently damaged his psyche.

"No Joker, nothing is in your teeth. I was just thinking of the irony our situation held and the hilarity of your shirt. It suits you." Jonathan smirked up at the Joker as he adjusted his glasses carefully. "After you."

"Oh, you shouldn't have!" the Joker jested as he walked down the hall first, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "You know you make me blush when you use your gentlemen charms on me Jonny! How am I supposed to keep you all too myself if you act that way?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes but let the talk go. If the people who saw them assumed they were a couple then it would be less of a hassle to them and wouldn't hinder their movements. This could be used in their advantage if done properly. The smirk on Joker's face told Jonathan he had been thinking the _exact_ same thing.

"If we are to do this then I think it is more plausible if I am the effeminate one Joker. My appearance is more feminine than yours is and it will be more convincing." He sighed and hung his head lightly. "Plus, you shouldn't use any form of my name. Come up with something else."

"They you can't use mine either." He huffed, slightly put off by Jonathan's attitude. "Anyways, what am I supposed to call yah if I can't, uh, use your name?"

"Oh, you'll think of something…Joe."

* * *

**Jonathan almost called the Joker "Jack" again. Can't let that slip just yet now can we? XD Also, all of these shirts are real and you can find them by going to google and typing in "Funny t-shirts" which is what I did to find these. Both I think fit the two well and are funny at the same time.** **If you can't find them please note me and I'll send them your way. Thanks for reading! **


	14. You've Changed Things

**Chapter Fourteen**

**For all the curious questions I have been recieving I have decided to address the issue here and now. No, there will be NO HARLEY in this story. She's not in the Nolan!verse as of right now, so I'm not putting her in. I'm trying to stick to something like canon while writing this, even if it is slash in its most gruesome form. Yes, this story has changed ratings for a reason. Please read for further details, you'll know what I'm talking about I'm sure. The Joker's past is indeed being somewhat based of The Killing Joke, but not entirely so don't expect identical things. I also like a few bits from The Man Who Laughs and a couple others. **

**This chapter is almost double the length of the other ones I normally write, that is why it took a bit longer. Please let me know what you think when you're done, this chapter seriously needs feedback on both its part and my own part. I'm not to sure of what I've done just yet. **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

"Wel-_l_ Nathan, why don't we get cracking then?" The Joker giggled as he walked onto the street from the dark stairway leading into the building the two were using as a hideout. "Lots of, uh,_ things_ to see and people to kill, yah know."

"Yes Jok-" Jonathan stopped himself quickly before starting once more. "Joe, I do know, but no sense getting into a rush when we could slow things down and take a few side trips." Jonathan licked his lips and flashed the Joker a confident grin as he strolled down the littered sidewalk after the disguised clown. "I know a _really_ great diner just a few blocks down and two blocks over."

"Nathan, I thought you'd, uh, _never_ ask!" The Joker, aka Joe, slowed down and walked side by side with the Doctor happily.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets casually as he stared down at Jonathan, who was walking next to him quickly in order to keep up with his own fast pace strides. The shorter man looked so different in his hand-picked outfit, so much brighter than his normally dreary suited self. Not to mention his eyes really came out without those dumb and cumbersome glasses shielding his face. The Joker was thrilled that he had convinced Jonathan to remove them before leaving the apartment. That was his idea, getting rid of the glasses for contacts, that way no one would recognize them!

Jonathan's cheek bones were high and elegant, set off by soft pink lips and icy blue eyes that could freeze you with one glance. They were perfectly set back in his head too, but almost hidden behind metal frames that constituted his glasses. Hadn't the Doc ever heard of contact lenses before? Well, it didn't matter because the Joker was having none of that. He wanted to show off the slighter man's features so they looked more closely at him anyways, and paid less attention to him. (A bold and selfless move on his own part.)

Jonathan's eyes were the Joker's favorite part about him physically, nothing could match the man's calculative brain and wit, but his eyes were way up on the Joker's list of "Favorites." The way they moved, watched everything closely, calculated when he was deep in thought, the way they'd freeze over in icy hatred before spraying someone in the face with his little chemicals. It made him tingly just thinking about it! If this whole partnership thing turned out to be a bust he was planning on killing Jonny boy and taking his eyes as souvenirs. No sense going home empty handed and if you waste not, you want not!

The Joker thought good and hard about laughing out loud at this, but figured that Crow would _probably_ get upset and start going nutter butter on him again. They had a job to do and it required full cooperation on both their parts. He certainly couldn't deal with the doctor if he was being a Nancy and complaining the entire time. His patience only took so much and as of three days ago he'd already had his fill. Not to mention, his laugh might get them into some trouble.

It was even more recognizable then his scars were.

Not that that was his fault or anything, he'd only been on Gotham News Tonight every day since he first started playing in this city. It seemed that the good citizens of Gotham couldn't get enough of his lovely mug, blaming him for everything from gang bangs to natural disasters. He sometimes wondered if they blamed him just to make them feel better about themselves, maybe he'd asked Crane later. Yes, sometimes it was good to be feared and well recognized, but not today. Today it was good to be incognito.

Joker had to agree with Jonathan on that point. The way the two were now moving about was astounding. No one was taking one glance more at them then they would anybody else, effectively handing them free reigns to the whole of Gotham. It was perfect the way they were able to move about freely without care or notice. Truly the people of this little Hell Hole were blind as old Batsy was.

The Joker continued to think about these fun little points and details as they walked with one another, getting closer and closer to the diner that Jonathan had mentioned earlier. Both men were silently starving, neither willing to tell the other just how much, and happily made their way through the streets. They walked mainly in silence until Jonathan decided to pipe up and ask the slightly smiling clown about the name he'd picked out for him. Jonathan's was clearly done: Joe was the first sound of "Joker" and therefore didn't need explaining.

Nathan, on the other hand, did.

"Why did you pick it Joe?" asked Jonathan crisply, not turning his head to talk to his companion as they continued to walk.

"Pick, uh, what?" The Joker asked, clearly confused.

"My name. Why did you pick my name?"

"Oh, uh, _tha-t_." The Joker grinned widely and took his hands out of his pockets in order to explain. Jonathan often found that the man talked with his hands, which made his speech that much more intoxicating to watch. "The name Nathan means 'God's Prophet.' I picked it be-caus**e** that's what we're doing, we're being like, uh, profits if yah will. We're carrying the leads of chaos to the waiting people of Gotham City, sprinkling it so that everyone gets some. Kind of like an Apostle.

That and the name Jonathan means 'The Gift of God' or something like that. They're, uh, closely related yah see. A good way to show off the gifts, given to me by the God of Chaos himself; if yah know what I mean Nathan." The Joker laughed a bit.

"Oh, I see." Jonathan was a bit at a loss for words. The Joker was being deep again, showing his true genius instead of the half cracked man that most of Gotham often saw. This was the _real_ Joker, the person he really was underneath all of the make-up and cheesy theatrics. The true brain behind the genius that was the Clown Prince of Crime. "That makes sense."

"Good, I think you're, uh, getting it finally there _Nathan_. It is, uh, also another king's son's name I think. Jonathan was the son of Saul, and Nathan was the son of David. Or something along those lines I think, I'm not, uh, really sure why I picked it anymore. It just sort of…_fit_."

Jonathan said no more.

The Joker had clearly lost interest in his reasoning behind the random name he had given him: therefore, he found no more interest in it himself. It was a vicious cycle of short attentions spans, genius mentalities, and silent planning that had caught hold of the seemingly innocent couple strolling down the filthy city side-walks of Gotham City. If one lost interest in the conversation, then the other was sure to follow.

But it didn't matter. Soon they'd each have a full belly and a stated mind, readying them for a fun night out on the town together. Oh, poor Commissioner Gordon was going to have a field day with this one…

The small diner located in the better part of the Narrows, if there was such a thing, was something Jonathan had stumbled upon while on the run for the cops after the incident in the Narrows and Fear Night. A few days after the tazer incident, Jonathan and Scarecrow had gone out in search of sustenance and normality to state his human tendencies for companionship and hunger. His slightly addled mind had overridden his need for privacy and seclusion, allowing Scarecrow to take over and do what needed to be done while Jonathan sat back and recovered.

He had found all of it and more in the walls of the greasy little diner called Ricky's Rocking Eatery. The food was tolerable and the coffee good and black, good enough for the both of them to be comfortable and recover in peace. Since it was in the aftermath of the Fear Night, he was one of the few people in the small diner, for which he was eternally thankful. The less people in there was the less amount of people who could potentially recognize him.

The owner and his mute daughter had been the ones to serve him personally with kind and open minds, and ever since then Jonathan had found himself debt to the elderly man and his silent daughter. Samuel Heller was an elderly man, grey headed and full figured. But what his body lacked in strength he made up for in portions, personality, and kindness. This was the kind of man that Jonathan enjoyed, one who was confident and hard working. There was a certain appreciation for someone like that deep within his bones.

When Jonathan had first stumbled in they had helped to tend to his face, cook him a hot meal, and provide him with all of the black coffee he could get. Ever since that point he'd become acquaintances with the two people, guarding the place like the gem it was. Whether or not they knew who he was, was a moot point between them. Jonathan had promised the old man to come back whenever he was in the neighborhood next. This seemed like as good a time as any to him.

Besides, he was dying for a decent cup of black coffee…

****

The tiny bell above the door chimed merrily as the two men walked into the old time diner, signaling to the rest of the patrons that they had new company in their presence. The crowd was mostly of the elderly persuasion, only a few patrons under thirty in the entire joint including them, and every set of eyes in the room was glued to their entrance. The older crowd tended to frown upon the "relationship" the two were going for as a cover, so a frown here and there was expected by Jonathan. The younger people just shrugged with their eyes and went back to their food.

What wasn't expected, however, was the warm welcome they would receive from the owner of Ricky's Eatery and his younger daughter. Samuel Heller was getting on in his years, needing the assistance of a cane to walk now after being attacked by an escaped inmate of Arkham during Fear Night, but he was still as determined as he had been all through life. His handshake was still as firm as his smile, persistence and intelligence shining through his clouded orbs along with hard working determination.

"Ah, Doctor, how are you today?" he asked, clasping the smaller man by the arm and patting him roughly on the back with one overly large hand. "We haven't seen you in ages! It really has been too long."

"Ah, Mr. Heller, Ms. Heller, it is good to see you all again." Jonathan chanced a rare smile, genuine in its entirety while shaking their hands. "Really, it has been longer than intended."

He fell silent as he listened to the older man tell him a few tales of the time he had spent "away on business" and that. (The two thought him a doctor at Arkham: that was why he was gone so long and explained the injuries the first night he'd met them.) His daughter contributing to the stories in a series of hand gestures that he understood as helping reminders to her father. He remained silent as he waited for his turn to speak, voice clipped and tone small as to keep himself in character with his new identity as Nathan.

He'd completely forgotten all about the Joker until Mr. Heller cleared his throat and nodded in his dirrection.

"Who's your friend there Doctor?" the man's eyes twinkling merrily in the light of diner, hinting that he knew the answer but was only trying to be polite. "I haven't seen him in here before."

"Oh, forgive me Samuel, this is my, um, partner, Joe Kerr. He's, uh, staying with me for a while." Jonathan stated nervously, unsure of what to tell the man and what he should say regarding their situation as a 'couple.'

"An, uh, indefinite while I hope Nathan." Said Joker, coming up from behind Jonathan and wrapping his arms around him tightly in a protective manor, resting his chin on the shorter man's shoulder. "Hello, I'm Joe Kerr. It is nice to meet yah Mr. Samuel Heller, Ms. Heller."

"Ah, nice to meet you my boy! I'm so glad that Nathan here has found him a nice young man like you, he deserves someone special after all the trouble around here. What with the bad experience on Fear Night and all, the young doctor here needs a bit of tender love." Samuel winked in Jonathan's direction as he shook the Joker's outstretched hand while Jonathan blushed a deep scarlet. "I just wish there was more happy couples around here like the two of you."

The Joker nodded politely to each one in turn, never releasing Jonathan while doing so. He was still blushing fiercely, uncomfortable at first with the intimate contact the clown was initiating. But, as the minutes passed and the two men conversed, Jonathan slowly felt himself relax into the alien touch coming from the warm body behind him. Normally he was hostile to all unwanted touching, but he thought that maybe he could get used to this. This wasn't like the contact he was used to, this was familiar and careful, warm beyond anything he'd ever felt before.

Was this what it was supposed to feel like?

Jonathan was so wrapped up in the feelings he was experiencing that he never realized they were moving behind the elder man to a booth just in the back corner of the diner, shielded from the majority of the restaurant by the large seat back. Joker slid into one side and Jonathan slid into the seat opposite of him, smiling nervously as the Joker crossed his hands in front of him coyly as he played footsies with him underneath the table, all while reading the menu. Dr. Crane was sure by now that his face was a shade of crimson yet unknown to man.

_Oh Jonathan, you know you like it though. There's no sense of denying that you enjoy the attention and this man knows the inner workings of our mind better than anyone else. _Said Scarecrow happily from the back of his mind, once again showing his head when he was damn good and ready. _Enjoy it, you never know when someone will look our way again… Or when you'll be as interested again. And I _can tell _you're interested. _

Jonathan nearly choked on the coffee that had been placed in front of him.

He had been sipping it lightly when his alter had started to whispering, placing suggestive scenes and scenarios in his mind that did far more than made him blush. Thankfully the table between them hid Jonathan's disgraceful reaction to some of the things Scarecrow had been hinting at, shielding him away from the Joker's prying eyes and belittling remarks. The laughing in the back of his mind let him know that the alter sharing his body was enjoying the reactions being caused by his suggestions.

Jonathan was saved by the appearance of Ms. Heller who came to take their order, remaining silent but attentive as the Joker placed his order of chocolate chip pancakes with whip cream and extra chocolate chips and a small chocolate milkshake. He himself only ordered an English muffin and a small bowl of fruit, plenty more than he normally ate anyways and far more than his already nervous stomach could handle. His black coffee would hopefully help calm his rattled and aroused nerves.

After they had eaten they paid the bill, they remained seated in the booth, happy to stay where they were and talk through their plans and goals for this little caper. Each man had something to contribute and Jonathan wanted to be sure that each angle was thoroughly thought out before being executed.

The two men discussed their plans in short thoughts and random brain storms as the Joker continued to put on a show for any curious spectators, and Jonathan, by rubbing his foot up the underside of Jonathan's leg and thigh lightly. The shivers running up his spine alerted him that he was treading dangerous waters, but the feelings it produced was more than enough to shut him up before his brain could ruin the situation for his body. It was torturous for him to sit there and endure the sparks caused by the tennis shoe the Joker was wearing, wishing against anything that they could just leave and be done with this falsity of a relationship before something happened that he would regret.

Or enjoy the Hell out of.

No, that wasn't him… That was the Scarecrow piping up from the back of his mind once more to put suggestions into his mind that didn't need to be there. It would only distract him and the Joker from the mission at hand, something he couldn't afford. But, God, his mind was not working like he'd like it to be with the foot roaming over places it ought not be in a situation like this. Every once and a while it would hit a sp- _Oh God_!

"Ahh, s-stop it Joe…" Jonathan stuttered out, lost in a sea with nothing to float upon but the man across the table from him. The foot reached back up again to stroke his inner thigh once more, making his body temperature rise a few more degrees in the close proximity of the corner booth. "Oh God, _please_!"

The Joker laughed lightly, clearly aware of the torture he was inflicting upon the good doctor across the table from him. He knew the man was repressed in a number of ways and that he needed to get him out of his shell a bit, but he never expected him to respond so…enthusiastically to his menstruations in such an open area. Clearly he needed this more than he had originally thought, if the way the coffee was put aside for gripping the table was any indicator.

"Please what, Nathan?" the Joker continued to smile. "Say it, I want to hear you say it. It makes me…" he caressed his inner thigh again. "Happy."

Jonathan looked as if he was going to explode sitting there at the table across from him, his hand unconsciously clenching with every pass of the Joker's foot. The way the smaller man trembled under his touch, the way his mouth parted breathlessly in silent pleas did something for him that nothing else could. Chaos was a strong aphrodisiac if he did say so himself, and by the looks of things, Jonathan thought so too.

"Please, Joe, please stop!" he lurched a bit in his seat, nails raking across the table in sheer agony as he tried to stifle his body's desire and the wanton please spilling from his mouth. "I…I don't know if I can take much more of this."

"Do you want me to _end it_ for you Jonathan?" whispered the Joker seductively as he leaned in to brush Jonathan's ear with his mouth, breathing out lightly. "Do you want me to make it stop?"

"Yes, please yes…" he ground out, eyes fluttering helplessly over the sea of emotions that his eyes had become in the previous minutes of listening to the demented clown and feeling his breath upon his neck and face. "I don't want to feel like this, please make it stop."

The Joker needed no more incentive before he stood up, leaning down to pull Jonathan up with him from the seat where he sat shaking. The smaller man walked quickly behind the eager clown, being lead along by his arm in a daze that was his mind, as they walked out the back door and into the alleyway behind the diner. A few boxes and crates lay stacked off to one side, giving the two the perfect little nook with which to seek refuge in. It was secluded, hidden from the street, and utterly perfect for what the Joker had planned.

It was time the doctor got his check up…

The Joker suddenly got rough as they reached the crates and shoved Jonathan up against the wall, pinning him to the brick with his forearm as he rubbed nimble fingers over Jonathan's chest seductively and breathed out huskily against his dampened skin. The purring sound reverberated through the doctor, sending more shivers up his spine which caused a tingling sensation in the ends of his limbs. The breath making his toes curl in sheer and unexpected bliss while the rough surface of the crates and brick provided some texture for him to feel again the raging ocean he was now being shoved into.

"Ah… Joker, _please_." Jonathan pushed against the Joker's body slightly, pressing himself up against the lithe body in an attempt to get the aching to subside. It only served to make the throbbing resume once more, only harsher this time. By now he was well aware that he was begging like a virgin. "Nghh, God make it **stop** please!"

The Joker laughed harshly, one arm pinning the doctor's body against the wall while the other one wandered down his abdomen to Jonathan's pants, tugging at the overly tight fabric roughly as the smaller man hissed in something akin to pleasure. Slowly, making small circles with his hand and fingers, he worked his hand around the button and into the waist band of the fabric, tugging at the useless and hindering fabric in his search.

"Yah know how yah, uh, look right now?" the Joker whispered, licking the bottom lobe of Jonathan's ear lightly before nipping at it. His hands continued to move, refusing to let Jonathan out of the torturous bond he now held him in. "You should wear yellow more often…_Doc_."

The bugging of Jonathan's eyes told the Joker he had found exactly what he was looking for, grasping the doctor's sweet flesh in his hand only tight enough to gage the man's reaction as he arched into the touch. The look in those bright blue orbs was even more sweet to The Joker then the breathy moans now escaping his soft lips with each sweep of his calloused hands. His own pants were now feeling incredibly tight in the close proximity of the space between them, something he could deal with later. Now he was intent on seeing Jonathan Crane, Master of Fear, fall into the throws of passion.

"Joker… Ah, please no more torture." Jonathan gasped, leaning into the in sweep of the clown's hand as his head tilted backwards to expose the expanse of pale flesh that was his neck, silently begging for what he knew his body wanted.

That was all the invitation the Joker needed.

He attacked furiously, licking and biting at the tender flesh that made up the joint between his neck and clavicle all while still moving hands over the flesh of Jonathan's abdomen and pelvic region, making him moan even louder than before and thrust harder. If the feeling wasn't so amazing then Jonathan was liable to die from it, or dissolve in gelatinous goo in the processes. The only way he could keep himself in check was by gripping the Joker's hair tightly in his own hands as the waves crashed down upon him, squeezing and releasing in a pulsing manor with each pump of the Joker's fist. The bricks beneath his head giving his hair a light coating of dust with each impact against them, grinding to give a counter spot with which to focus on.

The clown remained oddly silent, still furiously attacking his neck and clavicle while working him in his hand and growled lightly every time Jonathan pulled his hair while moaning shamelessly. (Clearly the clown liked pain now as he did every other time Jonathan had seen him.) He kept a steady pace, working Jonathan's body to the point of almost losing control before backing off slightly to make the doctor sigh in utter frustration. The laughs that pulsated from his chest every time he did this only seemed to push Jonathan closer and closer to the edge he felt coming closer and closer with every passing moment.

With one final sweep and a bite from the Joker, Jonathan felt himself unravel, lights playing in front of his vision as the loud ringing in his ears became a blaring siren of lust and sheer pleasure. Jonathan's fists clenched tightly to keep himself station as the world seemed to remove itself from around him, a deep growling noise coming from the Joker who's hair he still held. The waves of sheer ecstasy smothering him to the point where he was gasping for breath as the Joker continued to move with him, his hands no longer on Jonathan, but on himself.

And just like that it was over.

Jonathan was left gasping against the wall for breath as the Joker leaned into his shoulder, burying his hair into Jonathan's chest as he too panted for breath. The air around them still crackled with excess passion and left over energy as the two men each came down off their own high. Small touches and smiles passed between the two as they struggled to regain their composure and move on with their previous plans.

As Jonathan came down he thought about everything that had just happened between them, each thought killing a little bit more of him on the inside. The thought of what he'd just done made him almost physically sick, the thought of doing that with the Joker made him… He didn't know for sure. This was a distraction, he decided.

This was a good distraction.

After a few minutes they succeeded with moving again: and with a few last swipes with the handkerchief stuffed in Jonathan's jean pocket, they made their way back out onto the populated street and towards their destination looming in the distance on slightly shaky legs and one grinning face.

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**Was it hot enough for yahs? XD Let me know what you think!**


	15. I Disgust Myself Sometimes

Chance Encounters Fifteen

**Well, judging by all the comments I recieved about the last chapter, I'd say you all liked it. I'm glad it worked out alright and that it flowed with the rest of the chapter. It was strange for me to get in there and I wasn't sure if it flowed or not. Thank you for all the feed back on it. **

**Alrighty guys and dolls, I have figured out a pattern that may or may not allow me to start updating everyday. It is a good routine and it seems to work well for me. As proof here is another chapter, shorter than the last of course, but back at normal length. This one was fun to write, I must say. **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

No, it wasn't a distraction at all…

It was a **test**, a sinful and degrading test on his part. Administered by the clown from Hell, current roommate, and sadistic harlequin of hate himself. Damn that clown! He had done nothing more than assist him, with the exception of the severe panic attack from the other day (which he couldn't help), and this was the thanks he got? A test…a loathsome, foul test designed to rip him to shreds.

Jonathan had failed.

And he had failed spectacularly. Oh how the mighty have fallen, a truer statement has never been said. Jonathan felt totally shamed, slimy, greasy, and utterly repulsed by himself. He wanted nothing more at the moment then to go home, alone, and shower in boiling water until he could no longer feel the dirt of his own shame marring his skin. It was infectious, disease like, absolutely repulsing… Was this always what it felt like, when two people were together?

Jonathan didn't know. He didn't have the answers to that or any other questions that he had at the moment. How could he? He was alone growing up, with the exception of the Scarecrow, and never had anyone _really_ love him. But this wasn't love was it? This was a deadly mixture of human needs and animalistic lust, thrown together into a melting pot with two people stirred in. The two people in question just so happened to be himself and the damned Joker of all people. Why couldn't it just go and pick on someone else for a change…

The chances of him getting hit like this were astronomical, even at best, so what more did he have to fear? (Not that he feared his body, mind you, just loathed it and shunned it like the plague for obvious reasons.) He'd taken his random encounter and dealt with it as nature intended, spilling seed and sweat upon the ground in the most degrading act he had ever had the displeasure of doing. And yet, he had enjoyed it in some part of his being that was still his. His part: not Scarecrow's part, but _his_.

So Jonathan had reverted in on himself in order to find the answers he sought, allowing Scarecrow to take over so that he could go over what shame he had brought upon himself in his body's desperate actions. Was it his need for attention? No, not that: he had plenty of that from Scarecrow and others around him on a day to day basis. Was it the natural need to feel wanted, to feel good about himself in this new playing field? Possible, but highly unlikely in a fulfilling life such as his where change was unwanted and unneeded.

So what caused the carnal action that he had just participated in? Better yet, where had he learned any of that? His body just seemed to…know what to do. As if he had done such a think every day for the entirety of his life. So Jonathan went back to the basics, reverting back to the state when he first entered Gotham University, back when he was first starting out as a freshman psych student. Back when he was still _fresh meat_ for the hungry sharks of the world.

How do we learn? We learn by _association._ Our minds naturally connect events that occur in sequence. If you associate a sound with a frightening consequence, then your fear may be aroused by the sound itself. This occurs through a process of associative learning, or by linking two events that occur close together by a common factor. In any animal, another common learning technique is operant conditioning, or connecting a behavior with a result. This is the theory of Pavlov as proved by his experiments.

In Jonathan's case, all these factors were true and in practice. He had now associated that terrible and unnatural…_response_ and action with the feeling of dirtiness that he now felt. (Even though his body's response was absolutely natural, he couldn't believe he'd allowed it to happen.) He sickened himself, wanted nothing more than to crawl out of his own skin and get as far away from himself as possible. He wanted to shed his skin like the snake he was and crawl out into a new life, one far away from Batman, the Joker, and Gotham City.

And thankfully Scarecrow hadn't said anything since the spectacular release they had shared almost thirty minutes prior, and for that Jonathan was grateful. He wasn't sure if he could take the teasing, raunchy jokes, or guttural groans as the other replayed the scene for him in his head. He would too and take great pleasure at making his body remember every disgusting little detail, Scarecrow had liked it immensely after all…_and so had Jonathan. _

His alter was more than just a companion or tormenter: he was often a reflection of his own wants, needs, and desires and a manifestation of the things Jonathan himself could never achieve on his own. He was the strength to go to school, to face the bullies, to rid himself of his Great Granny… He was _strength_ in every sense of the word. Jonathan was the opposite. He was weak, easily pushed around, and unsecure of himself almost ninety percent of the time. It was Scarecrow who urged him to pursue the feelings being spawned by the actions he and the Joker were engaging in, but it was Jonathan who had actually acted upon them. Now he wished he hadn't.

And if there was one thing Jonathan hated above anything else, it was a lack of control over his body and mind. His mind, a temple given unto him by whatever power was out there, had already been desecrated by his own brilliant invention, wielded against him by the flying rodent. It had been broken, shattered even, into millions of pieces with one quick flick of the wrist. Gone, poof, just like that. Now his body, his final retreat and last resort, had been allowed to be desecrated by his fractured mind and physical needs combined with a calloused hand and a pair of lips and teeth.

But the worst thing, the thing that hurt him most of all about this situation, was that he was completely and utterly _aroused_ by it still. Even though he was disgusted by what he'd done, Jonathan didn't feel regret for achieving the satisfying physical results reached by the two in the dirty alleyway behind the Narrows. He had _enjoyed_ it, feeling like a needy whore and begging the Joker for something he felt that no one else was quite capable of giving him. He had relinquished control over one of his most prized possessions because it had felt_ good_ to do so.

So what did that make him?

A whore?

A slut?

A…queer?

No, Jonathan hated the last word with every fiber of his being. It was a useless label given by man for something they were afraid of, that they feared themselves becoming without their consent. It was a defense mechanism with a sharp blade hurled at others around them in order to hurt them and make the thrower feel stronger with themselves. No, he wasn't going to use any of those terms. So, what did that leave him with?

He had never really pondered his own sexuality before. It was a subject that had never been at hand or had never come up because he had no feelings for anything other than his dreams, ambition, and own ideas. He had pushed such silly things aside in order to achieve his goals of getting up and out of Georgia, up and out of the bullied life he'd come to know as his own. He had pushed his feelings aside for more important things, things like an education and a great job. He had pushed away companionship…

He had never felt the need for companionship as others his own age had, never felt the drive to bed women needlessly for a right to brag about it the next morning with others of his gender. In fact, he had never felt attraction to another being before or since the incident with Sherry Squires all those years ago in high school. But even that had been nothing more than a result of his hormonal body needing an outlet and she, being the most popular and attractive woman at Alren High School, had been the obvious choice. She was beautiful in a sense and so terribly ugly.

But he could see now that she had meant nothing more to him than a way to cope with his own coming of age. He almost needed something else to focus all his attentions on, to take his mind off his abusive home life and the aggressive, testosterone fueled bullies that haunted the rest of his waking hours. She had been a logical conclusion, a wrong one, but a logical conclusion none the less. She was what other boys his age, and of all ages it seemed, commonly referred to as "something to put your dick in."

He had never felt that urge before now, not really.

Now all he could think of was the hot and sticky moments he had spent pressed against the wall under the constant pressure of the Joker's hot and demanding body. The clown's spicy mouth on his neck and shoulder, nipping his ears, breathing hard and panting as he moved in rhythm against him and the brick wall pressing into his back roughly. To feel the gritty texture pressing into his skin, not hard enough to break through but enough to cause a counter balance of pain and pleasure. It was all so…wonderful. It was all so perfect.

Jonathan wanted nothing more than to forget the pans and drag the Joker home, lock him in the basement storage lockers he called his own, and never let him free. To keep him for himself, a toy, a perfect living toy with which to play with and claim as his own. He could even be selfish with it if he wanted. It was a logical assumption that no one else in the entirety of Gotham City would ever want the Joker as he himself now did. No one would go willingly with the crazed man before him, no one but him that is.

And that was what truly scarred Jonathan.

Not that he had done such things with the man, the clown from Hell, but that he wanted to continue doing them. That he wanted to lock up another free being for his own needs, desires, new fantasies playing through his head. That he felt the urge to become the lowest form of himself simply because it made him feel good, to forego any of his previous plans and ambitions for such simple things as companionship and bodily pleasure…but damn, they felt good. He'd had a taste and now he wanted more, more, more, more, more!

Jonathan felt his body stirring in ways it had never done before. He could feel it in his lower pelvic region again, yes, but also in his lower back, his neck, his ears, his face, and his shoulders. All the places the Joker had touched him at he could now feel burning with the desire to be touched and touch again. His own hands wanted to seek out the hair he had gripped frantically while lost in the sea of gifts given to him by the Joker, his hair tangled and being gripped by the moldy grout wall. He wanted to hold and be held!

But no, he couldn't, he didn't…he _did_.

And now these were feelings being thrown into the swirling Hell that was his mind. Too many questions with not enough answers: fighting for dominance and recognition of the master and a place to call their own. It was nothing more than a swirling mass of lust, greed, confusion, and fear wrapped into one neat package tied up with a Jonathan shaped bow and shoved under a demented Christmas tree that the Joker had put up within his mind.

Jonathan despised Christmas.

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**Everything said about learning comes dirrectly from my Psychology textbook, which is one of the best reads I've ever had. I had to drop the summer course because it wasn't going to transfer, but I kept the book because I enjoyed reading it. If you get a chance and your interested you should check one out. **

**I absolutely despise the word 'queer' when used in this context. Coming from a small, hickish town will do that to you I think. Don't use it, it should never be used in a derogitory term. **

**Oh, before I foget! If you are commenting, which you all are my darling and precious readers, please make sure to leave some way for me to get into touch with you. I don't mind anonymous reviews, but if you would message me your e-mail I'd love to talk with you. That is one of my favorite parts of this, is that I can talk with others who share my ideas! (AJ, you know who you are...) So, to one person in particular (Joker's Fan), please send me a link to get in touch! Thanks so much for everything dearies!**


	16. What Dreams May Come

Chance Encounters Sixteen

**I couldn't wait till tonight to write Scarecrow's point of view. I can't believe I've written this much in two days! Anyways, Scarecrow's POV will be a bit more... graphic and explicit then Jonathan's was simply because he is the cruder, less refined one of the duo. It isn't extremely explicit, but it still give some pretty decent hints as to what he's talking about and what they're feeling because they share the smae body. (By them I mean Jonathan and Scarecrow.) **

**Full references to the title in this chapter! **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

Scarecrow laughed to himself as he continued to walk behind the Joker down the seemingly deserted street.

On their journey the road ways had started to clear and the sidewalks had been abandoned for more appropriate surroundings because the sky had darkened considerably. If the two of them cared to check the weather this morning before they ventured out, they would have noted the seventy-five percent chance of thunderstorms. Being the middle of April that sort of thing wasn't a surprise in Gotham. What was a surprise was the rate the storm had come about.

But the rain had always been a secret pleasure of Scarecrow's. It reminded him of simpler times when the two of them were still in Georgia working on the dried up land of the Keeny estate. It smelled of fresh grass, new beginnings, and fresh chances. That's what life was anyways, a series of chances. That was what their first meeting was; a chance. That is what everything that had happened to them was, chance.

That was what the Joker was.

No, the Joker, the man behind the make-up, was something far more than _just_ a chance. To be more accurate he was more than just a simple snap of fate or some random occurrence. His case was a special one, much like Jonathan's was, in that it was a rare one. He was a special case of fateful encounters and chance happenings which made him into… a chance encounter, Scarecrow guessed. Yes, that sounded about right. A mixture of the two most controlling things in life meeting all at once and spawning something that was out of the ordinary.

Scarecrow, in contrast to Jonathan, was a firm believer in chances, fate, and destiny. He believed that everything had a place and that everything happened for a reason. But not Jonathan, he believed that every action had an opposite and equal reaction. Jonathan was a man of science and tools while Scarecrow was a man of fate and emotions. That was what made them the perfect duo, the perfect team. Scarecrow did what they did for the fear in all of its purest and undiluted forms while Jonathan did it for the science and research. They both got something out of the deal, but it wasn't something they shared.

But that was okay, the two of them were meant to be different from one another. If they were the same person then the shrinks at Arkham really might have had something going for them, but as it were, they didn't. It was like two different people were fused into one body through longing and sheet need. Scarecrow didn't know if the two of them had been born together or not, spawned of the crack whore mother, but he was certain that they had been fated to meet, destined to become partners in the dance of life. _That_ was what he was certain of.

So then why had this clown come along and messed with things so much? Not that he minded, a change of pace is always good for one's soul, but he was doing things that utterly tipped the scales of balance and harmony. That man did things that would make even the God of War shudder, raging Hell against the city and using its inhabitants as his own personal army of sorts. In a way it was sheer genius, the way he worked, and in other ways it was disastrous. But he wasn't going to complain just yet, after all, watching the man work was far more entertaining than being stuck in a cell at Arkham.

And that was what brought him to the present situation.

He had taken over for Jonathan upon the doctor's meek request, taking the reins while the other receded into himself. Scarecrow wasn't really sure what had caused the odd behavior in his other, but he was bright enough to know to leave him be. Jonathan had to work things out on his own sometimes and _this_ was one of those times. So he'd happily taken over their shared body and followed after the Joker, enjoying the feeling his jeans gave him when they moved against a certain part of tender flesh…

But that wasn't the cause for the laughing, not quite anyways. The cause for his mirth was the he could still hear Jonathan's pained thoughts, seeping into his own consciousness like an over flowing damn. That man had so many questions! It truly astounded him to step back and watch as Jonathan's "brain" went to work, whether it was making calculations or just simply deciding the next bite of food to take. Sometimes he really envied the good Doctor.

Like a half an hour ago when he was taking the Joker for all he was worth back behind Ricky's Rocking Eatery. The Scarecrow hadn't been able to participate all he had wanted to, to say the least. He had wanted to shove Jonathan out of the seat and do things _his_ way, but he had not only been stopped by what he saw, but also from what Jonathan had felt. That alone had been enough for him to call upon the little bit of self restraint he still managed to own. All he could do then was sit back and watch the show from afar, still able to feel the sensations but not actually allowed to participate.

**It was the worse form of torture he'd ever been put through, which is saying something. **

Needless to say he'd been slightly miffed at Jonathan for not letting him in on the action, but upon seeing the distressed state his other had been in after the finale he had quickly shut up. A wise decision now that he really looked at it. Jonathan seemed to be eaten up and beside himself with what he had let happen. H seemed _angry_ with himself for allowing such a good feeling to take place, to happen to someone like him. Hell, he _didn't even know_ that such a feeling could come just by someone else touching him like that! For a doctor versed in figuring out other's feelings, emotions, and actions, Jonathan was sure piss poor at seeing himself.

Scarecrow didn't mind though. He would be there for Jonathan if he felt to need to reach out and find a comforting figure. He would be there if Jonathan needed to ask questions, make statements, to have someone to bounce ideas off of. That was what his purpose in life was, to cause fear in those who had done them fear. To terrorize those who would seek to do the same to them, to hurt them. To crack the very foundations of anyone who dared to mess with the foundations that made up the name Master of Fear! But to also comfort and heal…

And whatever dreams may come, the two would always be together: Scarecrow would see to that. No clown, bat, man, woman, or child could change just how much he truly loved Jonathan. Yes, he picked on him quite a bit and caused him some misery when it came to personal matters. But it challenged him. It made him feel things that he would otherwise shun, do things he wouldn't be bold enough to do on his own. He was empowering Jonathan to be all he could be and more!

And yet…and yet there was Jonathan's own determination, the one that Scarecrow had no power over. True he had hinted at tasting the Joker, to lure him out and snatch him for all he was worth just to see his reaction, but he had _never_ acted upon those notions. Jonathan had. Jonathan was the one to get up with the Joker and leave, Jonathan was the one who took pleasure at the sticky fondling and cool brick walls, and it was Jonathan who now was torn between feelings.

No matter how desperately Scarecrow wanted to help Jonathan out, he couldn't.

The truth had never hurt him so much in all his life. To know that no matter the desire to aid he just simply couldn't because he didn't know how. He, the almighty Scarecrow, didn't know how to respond to such things as the heart for he had never felt such things. Besides his love for Jonathan he wasn't even sure if he _could_ feel such things. Hate and anger yes, but those were spawned and shared emotions between the two of them. The very reason for his creation and existence in life, but this was not.

So he kept silent and ever vigilant, putting up with the Joker, the rain, and the men who they were now dealing with and creating their plans. These weren't his men or area of expertise, so he stayed quiet and simply watched the dealings take place with reserved interest. The Joker never asked for anything, never looked their direction, and never once acknowledged their presence once inside the warehouse and that was fine by him. Anything to keep his own thoughts occupied and away from what Jonathan was thinking, it was more than just distracting to say the least.

Especially that nasty little tingle once again making its way down their back and to their hips. He didn't need the distraction now, not when they were vulnerable to others, but he couldn't tell himself that it didn't feel good. Lying to himself did nothing but increase the tension already growing there. Denial is not just another river in Egypt it seemed…

And as quickly as it came, the meeting was over and they were headed back to the nasty little apartment to be cooped up with one another once more. Close proximity seemed to give Jonathan ideas and himself cabin fever. Mix the two and you would get a dangerous combination, one easily played to and used and Scarecrow felt as if this next time he would be the one engaging in such fun activities.

Scarecrow just prayed that the Joker would feel the same.

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**It is safe to say that Scarecrow has something nasty planned for the Joker as well as Jonathan, and that they are sure to... enjoy it whether they like it or not. Jonathan and Scarecrow are like Yin and Yang in my opinon, opposite but perfectly in balance with one another. One couldn't exist without the other.**

**Allusions to the movie What Dreams May Come, one of my very favorite movies in the entire world. If you haven't seen if please go out and watch it, it has great imagery and a spectacular show of writing, planning, and insight to the human mind and thoughts of the after life. Great for anyone who believes there is something after death, and it isn't religiously centered although you can take it that way I'm sure. It has Robin Williams starring in the lead role, one of his best performances in my opinion. **

**Please review and thanks for reading! **


	17. Shopping Hold Up

**Chance Encounters Seventeen**

**Read the bottom for details on this chapter. **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

"Jonathan says we're stopping." Said Scarecrow, his voice commanding and authoritative in the cool night air. "We need supplies."

Well, Jonathan hadn't really said anything besides the constant babbling and questioning he was doing regarding the Joker, but Scarecrow new that if he was coherent he would have wanted to stop. The apartment had no food or other supplies in it and if they planned on staying for a while, which they did, then they were certainly going to need food. Luckily there was a grocery store/convenience store just down the street from where they were and wouldn't be too far out of the way making it a plausible stop. Not to mention it was beginning to rain again.

So they were going to stop whether the clown liked it or not.

The tiny hole in the wall was practically falling in now from disrepair, making it a great spot for two of Gotham's most wanted to show for supplies. It was probably once a very nice Walgreens back when it first opened, now it was only a shell of its former glory. But that sort of thing held allure for the pair now looking for some place to go because it was in need of costumers and the hired help certainly weren't picky. In fact, they hardly even paid any attention to you at all as long as you were quiet and kept to yourself.

"Why do we, uh, _need_ to stop Crow?" The Joker asked, patience thin and tone carefully packed with emotion. "Our business is done and I'm tired. The 'supplies' can wait till tomorrow."

"We're stopping, clown, because we have no food in the building and no other resources. I don't know about you, but I like to eat on schedule and be able to take a shower without having to jack supplies from other tenants." Scarecrow bit back with just as much venom as the Clown had given him. "That's why we're stopping."

The Joker laughed, clearly undaunted by Scarecrow's display, and motioned him to lead the way. Scarecrow wasn't sure if the man was testing him or not, but he sure as Hell didn't like the way he was now being treated. It was almost like the Joker was treating him like a little kid.

"Yah seem to know your, uh, way around this joint better than I do Crow. So please: lea-**d** the way." He clapped as Scarecrow moved out in front and cut down the alley way next to them.

It was a "short-cut" he knew to get them there faster.

He was going to take the Joker through to the other side, using the alley way as an excuse to get him off the street and into a secluded place so he could…lay down the rules so to speak. Spending the whole day listening to Jonathan whine and freak out had done nothing more than frazzle his nerves and by now he was sick and tired of it. Couple that with the taunting and mocking at every turn from the Joker, and he was so far done it wasn't even funny anymore. He had lost his patience about three blocks back.

So now he was going to do it in return to the Joker, not caring if Jonathan participated or not.

When they were a good ways off the street and back behind an old run down building, Scarecrow whipped around and turned on the Joker, pinning his arms to either side of his body tightly and pinning his waist with his hips, stilling the man. He may not be as tall as the Joker was, but he could still keep the man down. Back when Jonathan had still been the head of Arkham they had to do this periodically and restrain patients twice their size and weight, the Joker was nothing in comparison to some of those mobsters. Unfortunately he still put up a good struggle, but the Scarecrow held fast.

"Now you listen to me Joker, I have put up with your actions, listened to Jonathan's moping around all day, and suffered your smart mouth and constant taunting. I'm tired, Jonathan's tired, and you're clearly bored." He looked for a sigh of understanding swiftly before continuing. "So, this is how we're going to do this. You're going to shut your mouth for the time being and help me get supplies in here. I don't care what it takes, we're not to be noticed or recorded: kill them for all I care, but get the needed items and get out. Got me?"

The Joker wheezed out what could have passed for laughs before leaning down and resting his head in the crook of Scarecrow's neck and clavicle, resting his entire body weight against Scarecrow and Jonathan as he shook with silent laughter. This only served to piss Scarecrow off farther, but he restrained himself for the time being.

"Got yah Crow." Came the shaky reply, almost as if it was forced out between attempts at breathing and laughing. It probably was. "Search, obtain, and, uh, _destroy _if necessary. Sounds like my kind of grocery run!"

"Good, I'm glad we were able to come to an…understanding of sorts Joker." Scarecrow said, backing off and releasing him before turning to continue back down the alleyway towards the Walgreens only a block or so before them. "It makes my life so m--"

Before he could finish his sentence, the Joker had grabbed him from behind had thrown him against the wall, smashing his head against the building he had just been holding the clown against forcefully. He heard the audible crack of his skull and back meeting jagged cement blocks making up the outside of the building, but was more focused on the calloused hands now holding him against the wall and the one circling around his wind pipe threateningly. Through the stars he was able to make out the gleam of Hell shinning through the harlequin's dangerous green eyes, making his skin crawl with a multitude of feelings.

"Now you listening here Crow, I don't _take_ orders from anyone, least of all a bag of straw like yourself!" he slammed Scarecrow's head against the wall for emphasis on every syllable. "I _give_ them. So don't yah even think for a second that anyone besides the Bat himself can dominate me like that, you got me?"

Scarecrow's head was still reeling from the blows and his vision was now becoming fuzzy and black around the edges, signaling to his oxygen starved brain that he was nearing the end. But instead of panicking like he was sure the Joker wanted, he instead stuck his head up defiantly and snorted in laughter. The clown's face darkened at the gagged and straining noises.

"You…t-think you can –ack- scare me Joker?" he gasped out, the hands clenching slightly in fury at his speech. "You're no Batman! You're just a –ngh- scarred kid with a knife and a bad t-temper."

Scarecrow waited for the moment to come when the Joker would press up against him further to put more pressure on his wind pipe to finally crush it, waited for the signal to tell him to execute the stunt he was about to pull… He was going to get him right between the legs, drop him like the stupid sack of potatoes that he was. Any minute now he'd get his chance to…

The moment never came.

Instead, the Joker pulled off of his neck and backed up only enough to crash their mouths together, sucking the remaining air out of his lungs as their mouths each battled for dominance over the other. Scarecrow was stunned temporarily, but not enough for him to be controlled and topped. He fought back with his tongue, his teeth, his lips and nails as he felt the Joker practically groan with his attentions and the pain being coupled with the pleasurable sensations he was also receiving. The Joker was practically mauling his face now, hands tearing at clothing in an attempt to get a perch on him and gain leverage…

Then Scarecrow felt it, the Joker's hand wandering down to tug at his pants and the sensations the tugging cloth made when it touched and moved over tightened flesh and urgent fingers. It was all so rough, just the way he liked it, rough and demanding and perfect.

Scarecrow hissed at the feeling the Joker's hand gave him as he squeezed roughly through the fabric of the jeans, cupping his palm and moving upwards with each ferocious kiss he administered to his mouth. Soon the Joker abandoned his mouth completely in favor of his neck, biting and licking the smooth surface roughly as he made his way down to the front of the yellow t-shirt.

And promptly stopped.

Scarecrow looked up to the grinning clown with more than fury in his eyes, he looked at the man with obvious lust, passion, and contempt for being put in such a compromising situation. Here he was finally getting a slice of the pie, a piece of the action, and the damned clown quit mid way through. No amount of struggling or wiggling could get him to resume his action either, which made the Scarecrow even more furious.

"What the Hell Joker? You can't stop something like this mid way through and expect me to roll over like some dog!" he practically spat out, gnashing his teeth and growling at the Joker who was no longer smirking before him. "So finish what you started, or are you afraid of me?"

The Joker didn't say anything, but Scarecrow could assume what the Joker was thinking by the smile that made its way onto his face. He looked at him as if in a new light, one that could possibly be a lot of fun or be absolutely dangerous. He wasn't sure which look he liked less on the man before him but decided that he didn't care as long as something got done.

"Maybe another, uh, time Crow. Wasn't it your idea to go to the store and stock up?" he tapped a silently ragging Scarecrow on the end of his nose before releasing him completely and stepping back. "I'm sure we can be….quick about it."

The last part was whispered huskily into Scarecrow's face, making him completely aware of what the man was thinking of. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tread the waters that made up the Joker's mind, or even attempt to try and understand the dual meaning behind those words, but he was the one to suggest the store and he wasn't about to back down now.

"Yes, we should be. Get in and get out, simple even for the likes of you Joker." He brushed the clothes he was wearing off and fixed his shirt and pants so that they looked decent once more. "Well then, should we be going then?"

He didn't wait for an answer before he stalked off into the night and back towards the Walgreens for the second time that evening just as the sky opened up and started to poor. It wasn't long before the two were completely soaked head to toe and freezing cold. After a few more minutes they had reached the side of the building leading into the decaying store, walking in just as a flash of lightning shot through the night sky. It illuminated the two unimposing figures in the doorway, striking an impressive moment into the two people in the entire store.

The two men who were tending the store stopped what they were doing and looked up to the pair coming in with the weather and the lightning, glancing at them while their actions stilled momentarily before each went back to work. They ignored the two as they came dripping into the store and proceeded to ransack the isles and throw item after item into the cart that each one of them had. Scarecrow obtained practical items: edible food, water, toiletries, first aid materials, clothing, and other such items while the Joker ran like a two year old all over the store. Scarecrow, for the most part, ignored him and continued with his own shopping.

When he appeared at the front of the store the Joker was not there, but he could still hear the screeching of flimsy wheels and the maniacal laughter through the aisles as he scampered across the entire store gleefully. Scarecrow rolled his eyes as the clown came running up to him, twisting the cart to a screeching halt to his left side as he grinned down at him.

"I'm ready!" he practically shouted, gesturing to his cart carefully.

"I can see that Joker." Was the distained reply.

He looked into the cart to find a wide variety of things in there, ranging from disgusting hostess food, processed chip replacements, cheese whiz, popcorn, a deck of over sized playing cards, a dog collar, two pair of boxer shorts (one SpongeBob Squarepants, the other Family Guy), a large package of toilet paper, an entire case of Monster energy drinks, four packages of batteries, a coloring book, a packages of sharpie markers, and just about every box of candy the store owned. The contents made no sense to him, but clearly the Joker had plans for everything in this cart.

He wasn't about to argue with him.

Instead he nodded to the lone security camera hanging directly above the checkout counter, making sure the Joker saw it too. As they started for the door, the young man behind the counter spoke up quickly in a lame attempt to stop them.

"Stop, you have to pay for that stuff!" he said, walking around the counter towards them and pulling out his walkie talkie. "Hey Blake, we've got a couple of shop lifters here that I need your help with. Come in Blake."

There was nothing but static across the line, making the eerie storm raging outside that much more sinister. The Joker threw back his head and laughed loudly as the kid dashed for the counter, only to trip over his own feet in the process and fall face first into the floor. He tried to get up but failed, a large shoe pressed firmly into the small of his back stopping any movement on his part whatsoever.

"Ah ah ah! No moving unless, uh, Simon says!" the Joker giggled and flipped the kid over by kicking him in the gut hard. "Blake back there didn't follow the rules, so I had to… take him out of the gamer _permanently_."

Ah, so that was where the other shop keeper had gone to.

"Y-you killed him?" the boy was crying and wailing now. "Who are you guys anyways?"

"Someone you shouldn't have messed with kid." Said Scarecrow sourly, crossing his arms and coming to stand next to the Joker expectantly. "Don't forget the camera on your way out."

"Of _course_ not Crow! Give me, uh, five minutes with…" he looked at the kids name tag quickly. "…Barry here and I'll be right out!"

"Good." Scarecrow took all of the Joker's items out of his cart and placed them in his own for easier transportation. "Just don't forget them in your **giddiness**. I wouldn't want to hear that the GCPD got a hold of our location because of a video surveillance camera or a loose end. That wouldn't be ideal, now would it?"

"Nope! Don't you worry Crow, me and Barry here are gonna make it all better. Aren't we Barry?"

The Scarecrow didn't stay to watch the festivities.

He could hear the screams from the sidewalk.

* * *

**Figured I would get some gratuitous vilence and sexiness in there just for everyone following along. The Scarecrow didn't get a chance to bust in with his infamous plan before the Joker could do a bit of his own I'm afriad. Oh well, there's always next time I suppose. **

**The Joker's shopping items are based on contents of the cart I myself made while in costume and character at my local Walgreens. I went into the store, randomly filled up a cart, and then "roughed up" one of the workers there that I kenw before having my team come in and hold the place up while I scampered off into the night. (I have lots of contacts in the town I live in which made my little stunt possible. Thank you for everyone who worked at Walgreens that evening, without you I think I'd have been arrested and thrown into the State Police station located in my town.) It was the inspiration for this chapter since I did it only recently and found the video I got in the mail from one of the employees who took it with her camera. She didn't know me, being from out of town of course, but she still thought is was BA. Thank you to my friends at Ford for allowing me to borrow their amazing white shuttle van for my escape car. I really appreciate all of the help and participation which made my week of planning all that more enjoyable. **

**I wish I was taller though and without such hinderances as boobs so I could have been a more convincing Joker. My goons were great though, so give them a hand. Thank you to Michael for all your help with my acting and getting into costume, without you it wouldn't have been so much fun. If you are reading this, this chapter is for you dearest. Congrats on the college acceptance and good luck in the future! **


	18. Now You're Gone

**Chance Encounters Eighteen**

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

It didn't take long for the Joker to catch up with Scarecrow as he wandered down the back alley way, heading towards the apartment complex they were occupying. He was still toting around the knife he had taken out of kitchen wares and used to carve a smile into the casher before escaping happily into the night. The lack of grace and craft to the whole thing made the Scarecrow sick, and not in a good way. He also noticed that the video tape containing their identities was not on his person.

Scarecrow doubted that the tape could fit down the Joker's tight pants either.

The logics of their situation seemed to have been completely blown off in favor of the fun and blood the Joker had engaged in. Sighing, Scarecrow rubbed his head with the hand not currently pushing the over-stuffed cart. He could feel Jonathan's own headache spilling over to mix with his already pounding tension migraine, making it seem as if their shared head was about to explode from the sheer force of the few days events. Somewhere the beating, mental break down, and odd grocery run with the Joker, Jonathan had copped out and let Scarecrow fend for them. It was starting to get on his nerves.

_Jonathan, get out here and help me with this would you?_ Ground out Scarecrow mentally against the massive pressure forcing its way deeper into his neck and shoulders. _You can have your little mental break down later, but right now I need your help…_

_I'm not having a break down Scarecrow. I'm merely weighing the pros and cons of the situation that occurred earlier today, that's all._ Jonathan shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his counterpart. _I can't decide what I think about the entire thing, about what needs to be done._

"Idiot…You always over think things." Said Scarecrow out loud, distracted by the sheer stupidity of the whole debate going on within their combined minds.

_Come be with me… I need you. _

Scarecrow was well aware of the mental issues raging in Jonathan's brain, but was smart enough to block it out when he needed to. He didn't always need in Jonathan's business, much like Jonathan didn't always need in his own. It was an unwritten truce between the two that they kept out of one another's minds. It had been years since he'd really shared the space with the other, instead of occupying his own mental housing, so the thought of doing so once again wasn't all that appealing to him. But it needed to be done, the issue needed to be resolved so they could get back on track once more.

Scarecrow let the barrier down and slipped into the troubled mind of Dr. Jonathan Crane once more. The rush of emotions and feelings nearly over-whelmed him all at once, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks without realizing it. He receded further and further into Jonathan's mind, forcing his way down through the memories and feelings to reach the antsy doctor. Scarecrow could no longer feel the outside world, the poking finger of the Joker, the frantic shaking of their body, or the death grip he had now issued onto the handle of the cart. All he could focus on was the strength of the mentality he was now drowning in to get to his other.

It was nearly suffocating.

Things he had thought locked away were now growing in strength, stirring beneath the veil of darkness that Scarecrow and Jonathan had locked long ago. The barriers against that part of their shared mental capacity were bulging with suppressed memories, loud voices clawing at the chasm to get out and run rampant once more. That is where Scarecrow found Jonathan, at the edge of the cliff leading into the black pit. That is where he found the feelings of Joker, balled up tightly in Jonathan's hand so that he could discard of them just as he had discarded the memories of his childhood.

Scarecrow knew better than anybody else that this place, the one where they stood together, wasn't real. But as he saw Jonathan standing there, poised at the edge ready to toss away all feelings and memories of the Joker, he could swear that he felt the wind pick up and blow his hair out of his face. He could almost feel the icy fingers of dread crawl up his spine as he witnessed an almost mirror image of himself get rid of all feelings he had of the Joker. He felt the retching sensation in his own mind, knowing that Jonathan's feelings where shared with him.

Now they were gone.

"What have you done Jonathan?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly to reveal the wanton straw that made up his speech.

Jonathan turned to regard him slowly, his eyes just as sad as the day Scarecrow had first met him all those years ago. It seemed like a life time now, the thunder storm that had brought them together, the revelation that his own Great Grandmother, his flesh and blood, had been condemning him from the start with rat's blood and a good Sunday suit. That was when he had first spoken to him, first taken form and revealed himself to Jonathan. Not much had changed since then.

In appearances he was almost identical to Jonathan. They shared the same body figure, looks, face, and hair color. Although his eyes were darker than Jonathan's own, they were still the same icy blue as his. He didn't need the glasses, Scarecrow could see in any situation including the dark. His hair was still the wispy brown color that it had been, free to move in any way it pleased, just like it had when Jonathan couldn't afford a decent hair cut. It was still long, almost shoulder length, just the way he had always liked it.

But his body didn't hold the same contents as Jonathan's own did. He smelt of Straw and barns where Jonathan smelt of books and chemicals. His skin was the same shade as Jonathan's own, his face the same features, high cheek bones with soft pink lips, but his body was covered in scars and stitches where he had taken the emotional trauma for him. Where his own body was marred and torn instead of Jonathan's own: leaving him perfect and whole, just as he had met him. Another difference was the long, stitched up scar that ran down his chest where his heart would have lane had he not torn it out and given it to Jonathan so many years ago.

It was a metaphoric heart, yes, but it was his heart none the less. He could feel it beat, pulse where it was, but he could not feel it in his chest as it had once done. Now it resided in Jonathan's safe-hold, hidden away from the world and in no one's possession but Jonathan's own. That was how he had wanted it, to belong to no one but him, Jonathan's own to do with as he willed. He belonged solely to Jonathan.

That fact alone made him realize what Jonathan had done, to fully understand the impact the simple action of locking away his own feelings had. It was a statement that had no words, a book written without characters, a play without actors. It was a declaration…

"Oh Jonathan, you know that if you are happy then I am happy." He said sadly, moving forwards to stand next to Jonathan. "I will support whatever decisions you make."

The other man, the brilliant doctor, turned to silently gaze down into the bottomless dark that was his sealed memories and demons. The two stood looking into the hellish pit for what seemed like an eternity before Scarecrow felt the faintest brushes of skin against his hand and realized that Jonathan had grabbed him tightly in his own. It had been years since they had done this and now Scarecrow saw through the façade that was Dr. Crane down to the child that was Jonathan. Now more than ever the two needed no one but themselves.

"I will never leave you Jonathan, know this." He said, still looking out over the grey landscape that compromised their mental space. It was a duplication of the old manor in Georgia, just as he remembered it, the deep ridge formed where the Aviary had once stood. "Know this…"

"I love you Scarecrow." Said Jonathan quietly, his hand clenching a bit in Scarecrow's own which drew the straw man's attention back to him. It had been a long time since he'd heard this phrase from Jonathan. He missed it.

"I love you Jonathan."

The two figures stayed that way for a long time, not saying anything but enjoying each other's company none the less. Now Scarecrow understood what Jonathan had done and why he had felt the need to do it. He had felt like he had betrayed Scarecrow, left him for someone else. He had locked away the feelings so that he didn't hurt his other, so that he didn't lose the one person he cared for the most in the entire world.

He had given up Spring for eternal Fall…

Scarecrow felt the feelings they shared flow between them, conveying the deepest emotions without the hindrances of useless words. It made things so much simpler when you didn't have to worry about the miscommunications that could occur between two people. They were connected in far more ways than anyone else ever could be, and for that Scarecrow was truly grateful.

"We should get going… Joker will have become impatient by now. I don't want him dumping our body off someplace while we are otherwise incapacitated." Said Scarecrow sourly, turning to face Jonathan again. "But I will not leave if you do not want me to."

There was no reply.

The dissolving of the landscape around them told Scarecrow that Jonathan had returned them to their own place, taking over for him and the control of his body. He felt as if he were floating in subspace once more, this time content to remain there until needed again. Besides, he was overdue for a nap anyways.

****

Jonathan came to with the oddest feeling of being carried, his head and arms dangling freely to his sides as he stared at the ground. The sight of the occasional shoe strengthened his idea greatly as he realized just _who_ was carrying him. It only made matters worse.

"I can walk you know." He said icily, breaking the silence.

"I, uh, know yah can Crane." Said the Joker, his voice accompanied by the sound of a squeaky wheel from the cart. "But I can't trust yah, not with the disappearing act that yah just pulled ba-ck there."

* * *

**Enough said I think.**


	19. Slave Upon Myself

**Chance Encounters Chapter Nineteen**

**Now, I know a lot of you have asked my "How can this be a slash story if you had Jonathan and Scarecrow throw their feelings for Joker away?" It is elementary, my dear Watsons, there can't be. That is why this is the last chapter of this story. There can be no possible outcome of anything between them as long as they deny themself, that is why THERE WILL BE A SEQUAL TO THIS STORY. Pluse I don't know how to top that last chapter unless I start over again, which I have decided I am going to do.**

**Ahem, I repeat... THERE WILL BE A SEQUAL TO THIS STORY. **

**I have already started working on it and it continues almost exactly where this story leaves off. It is going to be titled "Giving up Spring: Taking the Fall" for all of you interested. It should be posted at some point in time in the next week or so. Also, there is a nifty play list for this story on my homepage for you all to check out. It is good, it is also what I listen to while working on this story. **

**I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, and the late Heath Ledger. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!**

* * *

Jonathan remained completely still as he listened to the tone of voice the Joker had addressed him with. If he had a guess or insight, which he did, he would say that the Joker was miffed with him. No, he was more than just miffed with him, he was absolutely _pissed off_. The Joker was unpredictable and dangerous in his good moods, let alone the frowning displeased state Jonathan now found the man in.

This certainly didn't bode well in the least.

"Do yah, uh, have any idea what I just saved us _from_?" drawled the Joker, tone darkening with every passing moment. "No, of course yah don't Crane! All that was im-por-tant was your little recession in on yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

The voice of the Joker growled out the last part, making Crane even tense even more then he already was. The man was a living human bomb, ticking and set to go off at random so that he ensured damage to pay for the time he had lost in doing so. Jonathan knew what a danger he was, knew what he could do to him, and he didn't care. So instead he went along with what the Joker was going on about.

"What did you just save us from Joker?" said Jonathan emotionlessly, arms and head still swinging to and fro with every step the Joker took.

The wheels on the cart squeaked loudly as the Joker continued to push, his grip on Jonathan's legs tightening with suppressed rage. It never occurred to Jonathan to try and get out of the uncomfortable position the Joker was carrying him in. He didn't mind being carried like a sack of potatoes, the Joker's arm and hand wrapped tightly around the bottom of his butt to rest just above his thighs, just as long as it kept him safe from whatever repercussions that were coming to him from the sadistic clown.

"The _Bat_-man Jonny Boy. Bats decided that he was gonna take a little trip over the Narrows in search of us, I'm sure. He, uh, went into the store we _just came out of_." He said, stopping and practically dropping Jonathan onto the ground. "You're wasting my, uh, time now! I didn't even get to play!"

The smaller doctor landed on the ground with a thud before rolling over onto his knees in an attempt to get up. He didn't get very far before a sneaker clad foot collided harshly with his stomach; dropping him roughly into the face of the concrete once more. Jonathan's face collided roughly with the gravely, broken ground at he landed and his face was ground into trash lying beneath him as the Joker's foot pressed against his head. Even though he was in a great amount of pain, he wasn't scared as he probably should have been.

"Not to mention wasting my fun… Bats and I, we could be having such a good time together. But you, you had to _ru_-in my fun with your little…**stunt** there. That makes me _sad_ Jonny, really sad." The Joker took another shot at Jonathan's stomach, dropping him again to the alley. "I don't like to be, uh, sad. Yah got me Jonny?"

"Got –ack- Got you Joker." Jonathan said, spitting out a coughed up amount of blood from where he'd bit his own tongue in his efforts to silence himself during the Joker's rant. "Can we get back now? I have work to do."

The Joker just stared down at him, not saying anything as a stunned look crept across his face. Jonathan reflected that he probably never expected to hear such deliberate back talk from anyone, especially someone like Jonathan. Scarecrow maybe, but certainly not Dr. Crane, a man who uses his alter a defense mechanism. No, never from anyone like him: so Jonathan stood up.

"You heard me Joker: I have work to do and chemicals to combine. If you want your concoction then you'd best let me pass so that I can get back to being my own slave." Jonathan stated, his eyes still devoid of emotion. "Damn, I forgot the bleach…"

Then the Joker laughed loudly, nearly doubling over in humor. Jonathan watched but said nothing as he rose from the ground, keeping his eyes locked on the clown as the show before him unfolded. He slapped his knees as if he couldn't breathe, a common show of someone experiencing side splitting laughter. It was the stuff of people's nightmares, but not his. Not any longer.

"I –ha ha ha- knew that I liked yah for a reason Jonny Boy!" he giggled, clutching the handle of the cart so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Alright then, we can, uh, go back now. I've had my fun for the evening."

Jonathan turned and started back towards the apartment without another word, formulas for the Laughing serum already running through his mind again. While in his reclusive state he had discovered the missing formula tucked safely away in a few of his scrapped files in between his newest formulas and his memories of gassing Rachel Dawes that fateful night in Arkham. It was grouped with a couple of other failed prototypes, each one a special memory to him and Scarecrow. Ones he had let fall to the side and die when he had accepted his newest roll in Ras Al Ghul's ranks.

Tonight he was going to bring them back.

Playing Dr. Frankenstein had never been more exhilarating.

--

As soon as they got home Jonathan immediately went to the closed door across the hall from the bathroom, the one door that had remained closed even through his episode three days prior, and stared at it for a few minutes. It was still locked for a reason, though he didn't remember locking it the last time, the key kept closer to him than his own family. He swiftly fetched the key from its resting place, unlocked the door, and entered into the before slamming the door and locking it behind him, leaving the Joker with the groceries and his own entertainment.

Let it be said that leaving the Joker to his own devices was one of the worse decisions Jonathan could have ever possibly have made. He could have done anything else and insured a less disastrous result, but he was so wrapped up into his own calculations and plans that he didn't stop to consider the consequences of his rash decisions. But that didn't matter, not at the moment anyways.

Scarecrow was still asleep.

--

Joker had been sitting in the living room on the dusty couch for what seemed like hours. Well, in all actuality it had been hours. They had gotten back to the apartment complex at about ten o'clock at night and it was now four in the morning. After a few movies on the crappy TV, watching the news for a bit, drawing all over Crane's clean counter top with a permanent marker, stoking the fridge with Monster energy drinks, drinking said energy drinks, playing with his over sized cards, and prank calling Wayne manor almost ten times before he'd lost interest.

And that was only in the first two hours!

In the next hour or so he'd completely raided Crane's closet, strung all of the man's underwear across the living room, mismatched all his socks and suits, tried on his prototype toxin delivery system, and promptly got bored halfway through his activities. Upsetting the man's careful balance in nature was all fun and what not, but it lost its sparkle quickly.

Now he had been sitting here for a few hours without anything to do, listening to the noises coming from behind the laboratory door. Or at least Joker assumed it was a laboratory, what with the way Jonathan guarded the thing and what not. But he guarded everything with such care and precision. It had to be a laboratory, or a library, or both…

Joker couldn't take it any long.

Jumping up, grabbing another energy drink as he went, the Joker started for the door in a fast pace as he guzzled the drink. He reached the door and jiggled the handle hastily only to find that it was still locked. He sighed loudly before kicking the door in frustration, not even caring that it made a loud rattling noise, before turning away from the door and walking into the bathroom out of frustration. The drink can crumpling under his frustrated grip.

"Stupid doctors with their stupid rules and procedures…" he snarled, flinging the mirrored cabinet door above the sink open in search of something sharp and long with which to get the door open after chucking the can away. "Always have to, uh, be so _formal_ about everything."

As the Joker riffled through the medicine cabinet, a flicker of something caught his eye out of the corner of the mirrored surface. Turning his head he glanced towards the hallway, directly at the lab door that had been shut and locked tight only a few minutes before. Now it was opened a few inches, a soft green light spilling out from the crack now opening a bit farther.

The Joker, with his infantile attention span, couldn't help but be drawn in by the soft glow practically screaming at him to come and investigate! He tried to open the door as quietly as he could, opening it slower than he had ever opened any other door, before wandering in on tiptoe. He sort of felt like a ninja doing this…

Was this what the Batman felt like?

No wonder he went out to dress as a flying rodent every night! This was exhilarating! This was superb! This was….boring again.

The room before him was jam packed with varying types of medical and scientific equipment, ranging from glass beakers to sophisticated hydro electric pumps and generators of some kind. Any kind of chemical gadgetry the Joker could practically image was here in this cramped space. The entire room was set up into a complicated system of wires, tubes, and chemicals. Books, papers, pens, blue prints, and complicated lists littered the floor and all available table space, crammed into every available space that Jonathan could clearly find.

"Oh ho ho, Jonny Boy, your secret is out." Cackled the Joker madly as he moved further into the room. "For someone who is, uh, such a neat freak, yah certainly like to keep your work space in shambles."

Indeed, the room was a complete disaster zone, as if the good doctor had been searching for something. He probably had, knowing him, but the Joker wasn't so sure. Some of this stuff looked pretty _dusty_… As the Joker continued to look around the room, inspecting whatever met his fancy, he noticed something out of the ordinary.

Where was Crane?

He had come in here when they got home to promptly lock the door behind him, not once coming out the entire time the Joker had been outside. Had he snuck out the window? Joker glanced around the room again to discover that the room didn't have a window: or any other type of escape besides the door he had just come through and an over head ventilation duct over the large central table, which was bolted over. So that meant that Jonny Boy was still in this mess somewhere: hiding.

Joker crept farther into the room, past the little rickety table containing the notes of the Laughing Toxin, past the large chalk board with the additives listed as well as the formula again, in search of the missing doctor. But he wasn't there in the chair: he wasn't lying asleep strewn across the table, face down in his work asleep. He wasn't draped over the drafting table, he wasn't slumped in the chemicals… He wasn't anywhere!

"Here doc, come out, come out where ever you are!" he called softly, creeping across the tiled floor on silent feet. This was the only room in the entire apartment (excluding the kitchen) that was covered in something other than carpet. "I've got a nice new shipment of chemicals for yah…"

There was no answer.

Frustrated the Joker plopped down in the swivel chair in front of the drafting table, exasperated and exhausted from the crash off the energy drinks. He rested his now clean face, void of any and all make-up, in his palms as he read through the chemical sequencing used to make the toxin. It really was quite brilliant if he thought about it, and he did briefly. It was designed to cause terrible and uncontrollable laughter in its victims, something he had always wanted to see.

Gothamites would really be laughing now!

He knew there was a reason he kept the dual minded doctor around besides his use as a punching bag... Even if he was slightly off his rocker.

_Oh the places we will go. _

* * *

**The last line is taken from Dr. Suess' _Oh The Places You Will Go_ which everyone seems determined to give me for Graduation this year. I don't understand why it is such a big gift, but apparently it is because I got several copies. I just so happened to be thinking about it while writing this chapter. **

**Please don't ask about where Crane went. You will find out in the sequal. **

**Thank you for reading this story and keeping with me until the end! Stay tuned for my sequal "Giving Up Spring: Taking the Fall" which will be coming along dirrectly.**


	20. Chance Encounters Soundtrack

**Here is the Playlist for easier access. Sorry for the confusion. **

**Chance Encounters Playlist:  
**Agoraphobia – Incubus  
Almost Easy – Avenged Sevenfold  
Angry Johnny – Poe  
Annabel Lee – Nox Arcana  
Animal I Have Become – Three Days Grace  
Anything For You – Evanescence  
Ashes to Ashes – David Bowie  
Avantasia – Avantasia  
Ave Maria – E Nomine  
Babylon – Scars on Broadway  
Ballad of a Paralyzed Citizen – The Faint  
Beautiful – HIM  
Beware Criminal – Incubus  
Bittersweet – HIM & The Rasmus  
Blood On The Scarecrow – John Cougar Mellencamp  
Blow Me Away – Breaking Benjamin  
Break Me Down – Red  
Break Down – Breaking Benjamin  
Breathe – Breaking Benjamin  
Bring Me The Disco King – David Bowie  
Bring Me To Life – Evanescence  
Burn It To The Ground – Nickleback  
Dance With The Devil – Breaking Benjamin  
A Dangerous Mind – Within Temptation  
Danse Macabre – Frank Liszt  
Dead Man's Party – Oingo Boingo  
Dead Promises – The Rasmus  
Disarm – Smashing Pumpkins  
Ecstasy – ATB  
The End Is The Beginning Is The End – Smashing Pumpkins  
Fear – Sarah MacLauchlan  
Freaks – Nox Arcana  
Getting Scared – Imogene Heap  
Ghost Love Score – Nightwish  
Ghost Town – Shiny Toy Guns  
Hands On The Bible – Local H  
Home – Three Days Grace  
I Almost Told You That I Loved You – Papa Roach  
I Hate Everything About You – Three Days Grace  
I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight - Foreigner  
I Love You – HIM  
I Think I'm Paranoid – Garbage  
Insane – Scars on Broadway  
It's The Fear – Within Temptation  
Just Scarecrows To War – Murray Gold  
The Kill – 30 Seconds to Mars  
The Killer In Me – Smashing Pumpkins  
Let's Do It – Cole Porter  
Lost In Space – Avantasia  
The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum – Collide  
Mad World – Gary Jules  
Man Next Door – Massive Attack  
Masochism Tango – Tom Lehrer  
Megalomania - Muse  
My Kind of Town (Chicago Is) – Frank Sinatra  
No Fear – The Rasmus  
No More Sorrow – Linkin Park  
The Only – Static X  
Pain – Jimmy Eats World  
Pain – Three Days Grace  
Passion's Killing Floor – HIM  
Re-Education (Through Labor) – Rise Against  
Riot – Three Days Grace  
Sanitarium – Metallica  
The Scarecrow – Avantasia  
Scarecrow – Beck  
Scarecrow's Dreams – Dan Fogelberg  
Scared – Three Days Grace  
School of Hard Knocks – POD  
Slow Chemical – Finger Eleven  
So Cold – Breaking Benjamin  
Super Villain – Powerman 5000  
Sweet Sacrifice – Evanescence  
Syringe – Emilie Autumn  
That Boy Needs Therapy (Frontier Psychiatrist) – The Avalanches  
The Toy Master – Avantasia  
Twisted Minds – Avantasia  
Undead – Hollywood Undead  
Unforgetable – Frank Sinatra  
Unstable – Adema  
Until It Sleeps – Metallica  
Until The End – Breaking Benjamin  
What Have You Done? – Within Temptation  
When You're Evil – Voltaire  
Whispers In the Dark – Skillet  
Witchcraft – Frank Sinatra

**Thank you for reading this story and keeping with me until the end! Stay tuned for my sequal "Giving Up Spring: Taking the Fall" which will be coming along dirrectly.**


End file.
